


Running with the Wolves

by Nox_Fussycat



Series: The Cry of the Wolf [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: #DaBoot, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Transformation, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood and Violence, Canon and Non Canon Elements, Forced Cohabitation, Funny, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, M/M, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Omegaverse Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Others Additionnel Tags on each chapter, Slow Burn, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, The Author is a Bitch, Wolf AU, Wolf Damen, funny moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nox_Fussycat/pseuds/Nox_Fussycat
Summary: "A new man was standing in front of him, squatting in Adam's outfit. Laurent's vision was far too vague for him to discern the features of his face. He gathered all his courage and the last remaining strength he had. He murmured a weak " Don’t hurt me please..." before finally losing consciousness. The last thing he saw before sinking into the darkness was two big red eyes shining like suns into the night."The Wolf AU that nobody was waiting for.I'm bad at summarise, sorry. Just read it ?CHAPTER 4 UPDATED FOR REAL THIS TIME, THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT !





	1. Chapter 1 : Everything will be alright

Laurent ran, as fast as he could. As fast and as far as his legs could carry him. His feet sank into the ground, branches and foliage crashing under the soles of his shoes. He took his feet several times in the roots coming out of the ground, making him stumble, often catching himself up with difficulty to a nearby tree. He gasped, his chest moving heavily at each step. The muscles in his legs stung and were burning. He did not dare look behind or around him. He was afraid of what he could see there. His arms were making big gestures, as if it could help him go faster. Wisps of his hair blocked his face, entering his mouth with every breath, sticking to his skin with sweat, going into his eyes, but he did not bother to push them away, he was far too preoccupied to flee.

The forest around him was dark and gloomy. The trees were thick and close to each other, forcing him to make big gaps to avoid them, drawing needlessly from the little energy he had left, which he would have preferred to keep to keep running. The branches of the shrubs hit his face, gripping and tearing his clothes and the skin of his arms. He could not see more than two meters in front of him, the undulating ground not making it easy for him to see what was in front of his nose. His bronchi burned, just like his throat and legs. He had trouble breathing and keeping up. He felt as if he were choking every time the air entered his dry lungs. He had tears in his eyes, blurring his vision.

For a second, the thought that he would not get out of it crossed his mind. He swallowed dryly and pushed that thought away. He was not supposed to think so, he had to concentrate to escape and join the nearest road if he wanted to escape. Or even find a hiding place for shelter as the sun rises. Maybe just the time to catch his breath and think of a solution more calmly. He did not have the strength to climb one of these trees and at the point where he was, he doubted it would work. He could hear the animal shrieks around him, the sounds of fast footsteps sinking into the ground catching him, the rustle of the bushes that one grazes. He knew he was surrounded but he refused to give up. It was not his style, he never let go of it. Alas for him, what pursued him neither.

In the periphery of his vision, he saw something passing near him. He jumped, it was way too close. But it was a mistake. In a scream, to dodge what was so close to him, he twisted his ankle and collapsed on the ground. The collision was brutal. He banged his head on a rock nearby, his hands burrowing in contact with the branches. He could feel the throbbing pain in his skull, knees, palms and leg. Laurent repressed a groan while grimacing. The world revolved around him. He blinked several times to regain composure and tried to get up before falling again. Hard. His ankle was too injured for holding him.

Raising his head, his hair falling in front of his face, Laurent looked around him. He saw the silhouettes encircling him, almost increasing the whirling he had difficulty chasing. Big, scary shadows. He almost thought it was like he was the main character of a horror movie playing a typical and crucial scene, monsters ready to eat him alive. The shadows went fast, too fast for his eyes to follow their movement correctly. He heard the rumblings, their breaths, the noises they produced running around him and approaching. Holding his breath, he grabbed a stone. He would not let himself go, he was out of the question. He would fight to the end.

Panting, he tightened his fingers around the pebble, ready to hit the first monster that came too close. A noise to his right caught his attention and he quickly turned his head to the source before settling on the spot. A huge beast stood in front of him, approaching slowly as a predator approaches its prey. He narrowed his eyes to see it better, raising his arm to eventually defend himself if it approached nearer.

The sky cleared for a moment, the light of the moon slipping through the branches of the trees, illuminating the place where he was and the beast in front of him. Laurent held his breath. In front of him stood a huge wolf, much bigger than a bear, his lips raised on his canines too big, thick and sharp for Laurent’s taste. He swallowed. His paws were huge, surely more than his hand even when spreading his fingers. The wolf was massive, he could see his muscles rolling under the thick fur. He bit his lip. One shot, one bite and he was ruined.

He heard some other noises and turned sharply his head to see, with horror, that other monsters of the same size than the first one were encircling him. Too much. They should easily be ten. He bit his lip and swallowed hardly the knot that was forming in his throat. He would not come out alive, it wasn’t possible. Not facing such things. He clenched his jaw, concentrating not to give in to fear as the wolf stopped in front of him, his mouth a few inches from his face. His arm was still up in the air but he did not have the strength to cut down the rock he was holding firmly on the face of the monster. He was in shock, breathing with difficulty. His eyes were plunged into the blue, icy one of the wolf, who was staring back at him without moving any further, his coat moving as if floating in the air and the muscles of his ribcage moving to the rhythm of his breathing. Laurent could feel his nauseating breath against his wet skin. If he had not been so scared, he would have probably been nauseated. He had the impression of having the smell of a putrefying corpse right under his nose. He had to think of a solution to get out of there and act quickly before being devoured alive. It was not really like that he was thinking of ending his life. He had already seen too much to stop everything now. 

Suddenly, the wolf lowered his head and a crackle echoed between the trees. Then another. And yet another. The animal's neck twisted and the other monsters began to growl. A leg twisted too, the bone forming a strange angle. Then it was the turn of his spine that went up in a perfect angle. At each crack, a new bone broke. The wolf groaned before his fore limbs gave way under his weight. Laurent saw the skin tearing all along the twisted spine. The animal pushed as if to free itself. He swallowed again. Blood spurted on his face but he was too paralyzed to move. His eyes were fixed on the being before him that was like mutating. With horror, he watched the raw skin and the fur drop to the floor in bloody pieces, the body twisting in every possible angle before the process finally stopped to reveal the shape of a naked human.

The man was standing there, in the middle of the animal's remains, his body curved, squatting with one knee on the ground, resting on his arms, his head turned to the ground. Laurent could not see his face, only the tuft of black hair covered with blood sticking to the man’s skull. The man rose slowly to his full height, and like the animal that was before him a few seconds earlier, Laurent had the impression to see a monster stand up in front of him. The man was a mountain of muscles ready to explode his skin so it was tense. Laurent remained incredulous. Had he hit his head too hard and started to hallucinate? How could an animal mutate into a human?  He shook his head, it was not the moment to ask how it was only possible. The man slowly opened his bright blue eyes, shining in the darkness. He plunged them back into Lauren’s own and Laurent could not repress a shudder. The man was scary. Monstrous, with a jaw as massive in its human form as animal one.

Laurent had to run away. Discreetly, he tried to lean on his ankle. He tried to keep a face as neutral and cold as he could, suppressing each of his emotions, trying not to show how painful it was. His ankle was painful, obviously, but not broken, probably a sprain. This reassured him, but he knew he would not run very far in this state. He had no illusions. The man seemed to notice his maneuver because a perverse smile appeared on his lips.

"You will not get very far," he said, repeating Laurent’s thoughts aloud as if he could read them in his mind.

Laurent restrained himself from grimacing, again. But his breathing accelerated. To the point where he was, after having seen the man metamorphosing just in front of him, if the one told him that he was capable of reading mind, it would not even surprise Laurent. He must not be overtaken. He could not let anything appear. The man took a few steps, wandering naked as if nothing had happened, stretching out his whole length, exposing his body as if there were not a dozen people or wolves watching him. Laurent kept his eyes raised to the man’s face, the situation was disturbing enough to add anything weird to it. Especially when it was a pair of family jewels bouncing happily between the legs of their owner. The man sneered at Laurent's tense air.

“You certainly wonder how and why you found yourself in this situation”, he said simply, letting his arms fall down his body, “but it does not matter, soon you will have other concerns.”

His smile widened and Laurent repressed a thrill of horror and disgust. He had a terrible feeling. Nothing around him gave him any information to escape. He was playing all the possible scenarios in his head, all leading to an end he did not want. The only plausible scenario was that he found a way to distract them and hide in a stream. The water would disguise his smell, clean him of the blood. But for that, it was necessary to know if a brook was sufficiently close before the wolves and this man catch him, the fact that his ankle did not allow him any more to run being a considerable disadvantage. It was also necessary to know if he would find a hole or hiding place sufficiently sheltered to remain there indefinitely. And he had to find the way to distract them. It was not won.

Laurent lowered his arm slowly, his muscles screaming painfully for having remained too long contracted to keep it in the air. He looked away from the man and looked around him. All the wolves around them were in attack position, ready to jump at the slightest movement he would make. They were smaller than the human wolf in front of him but they were still just as fast. He slowly raised his free hand, watching the wolves growl at this gesture, and released the strands of hair that barred his face. He had to see clearly. He slid the locks behind his ears, hoping that would be enough in the meantime.

The man stepped towards him again and, against all expectations, crouched down to him. Laurent did not look down as the man had surely expected him to do, this one showing a slight surprised look. The wolf man narrowed his eyes before grabbing Laurent's chin with one hand and pulling him toward him. He watched Laurent, pronouncing no words, scrutinizing every detail of his face.

“You're pretty cute”, he finally announce with a satisfied voice after a while, “It's rare specimens in your genre.”

He continued his observation, his eyes wandering now on the ripped clothes and body of Laurent who concentrated not to move. His fingers tightened a little more on the rock he was holding. He was desperate to push the man away, but he had to wait for the moment when he would be the most vulnerable to strike.

“Your body looks sturdy. You had to maintain it.”

The man approached a little more, sniffing the air around him, before directing his face to Laurent's throat. The latter tightened his jaw. He did not like it at all.

“You smell terribly good. A good catch.”

Laurent felt his breath against his skin. His body tensed. Suddenly, he felt the tongue of the man, the latter dragging all along his throat and he could not hold back anymore. His hand holding the stone flew to the skull of the man against whom he smashed the rock as hard as he could. The man crashed to the ground in a grunt and Laurent gave him another blow before getting up as fast as he could, staggering. One of the wolves leapt immediately in his direction, hauling him down with all his weight.

Laurent rolled to the ground and the beast fell on him. Still holding the stone, he tried to push the animal as best he could with his forearm, moving his face as far as he could, before smashing the rock on the wolf's mouth. He struck, again and again, until the beast fell to the side in a plaintive yelp, the muzzle crushed. He tried to turn around to get up but another wolf grabbed his leg, holding him violently on the floor.

Laurent screamed. He felt the fangs sink into his flesh and into the bone of his shin. He kicked with his valid foot while another wolf gripped his shoulder with his mouth. He screamed again and struggled as best he could, hitting everything he could reach without trying to understand or think. He felt his bones creak under the jaws of the wolves. He suppressed another cry, even if the pain made his head turn and lose consciousness gradually.

But he soon did not have much strength left, his body falling almost without moving after a few moments to struggle desperately. His vision was cloudy, he could feel the blood running down his wounds and soaking his clothes and the earth around him, the foliage taking on a darker shade in the moonlight. His whole body stung terribly. The jaws released him and he heard footsteps near him. Forcing himself to focus to keep his mind clear, he saw the man above him. His head ended up rolling on his side. The man spoke but he did not hear him anymore or at least did not understand what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, he felt like chills all over his body and could not move. He was feeling cold.

Then a roar sounded. Laurent wondered if it was thunder. But the noise was too long, too loud, too close, and the sky did not light up when it stopped. All around him, the wolves seemed to have frozen. No one moved, no more noise was emitted. Until the roar sounds again. Stronger and even closer this time. Laurent felt the vibrations in his bones. Swallowing hard, haggard eyes, he sought the source of noise. He tried to move. He noticed that the wolves around him looked terrified. Their tails were hidden between their paws, their ears were back, pressed against their skulls, and their noses almost touched the ground as a sign of submission. All began to back down.

The growl intensified further. Laurent narrowed his eyes, frowning. A new wolf was coming closer, bigger than the man had been. He tried to roll on his side before falling heavily on his back. He had to go away. If the beast even attacked his comparisons, he was really ruined.

Laurent tried to move again, grunting desperately without even realizing. But his body was heavy, filled with lead. He thought that if anyone ever had the wonderful idea of throwing him into a river deep enough at that moment, he would sink like a concrete slab. It was terribly frustrating, he felt vulnerable and could only watch his death approaching with heavy steps. The beast growled again and Laurent heard crackling sounds. He shivered, turning his head. The man was transforming himself again, this process much more gore and seeming much more painful than the previous one. The man's face distorted to form a wolf's mouth and he twisted into awkward angles, screaming all the way during it, tearing his human skin with his long clawed hands, before it finally fell to the ground and let him land on his feet, ready to attack the new wolf. And quickly, Laurent found himself stuck on the ground between the two wolves growling one after the other.

He could see the bloody drool flowing along the fangs of the wolf man while the other took a more aggressive stance. Then, in a movement too fast for Laurent to really follow it in his current state, they threw themselves on top of each other in a great groan. He raised his free arm over his face, fearing they would fall on him. But nothing happened. Lowering his arm that fell to the side of his body, Laurent watched the wolves fight fiercely in big disgusting noises. The others joined their leader to try to defend him, but the new one seemed to have no trouble keeping up. His jaw closed without any difficulty on their limbs, throwing them away as if they were nothing.

As the battle faded a little from him, Laurent persisted in trying to move to escape. He couldn’t afford to stay here. The new wolf offered him the perfect distraction on a silver platter. He finally managed to rely on his arm that was not hurt, dragging himself on the ground as much as he could. But a body collided with him. He found himself thrown back on the ground, the wolf's body too heavy to lift it away from him as wounded as Laurent was. He gasped, trying to get away. He felt himself fell unconscious and it made him anxious. He knew that the more he would force, the sooner he would sink but he could not bring himself to stay idle. The noises behind him became more and more frightful and violent. He could hear the pained barking of wolves that the beast sent waltzing away or wounding without restraint. And soon, he heard footsteps quickly moving away, fleeing far off, yelping with them, before he could not hear any sound anymore outside of his own breathing and his blood pounding in his ears. And the one of the beast above him.

As he swallowed thickly, Laurent raised his head very slowly, afraid of what he was going to see. Had the beast come to finish the job now that it had earned the right to eat him? Or would it take its time before making him its meal? But he only saw a pile of brown fur covered with blood before the body above him was removed. He breathed a little more freely, which made him turn his head as the air came back in full force in his lungs. He heard a thud and could see the lifeless body of the wolf lying nearby. The beast then backed a few steps off and a significant crunch sounded. Laurent closed his eyes, not wanting to see the transforming process again. He would have preferred not to hear anything too. It was too much for him.

It was a mistake. Another mistake he made that night. No sooner had he closed his eyes than his body became heavier all the more, his members categorically refusing to move again and he felt himself fell. He dropped his head to the floor. He had the impression of being on a boat in stormy water, the impression of rocking, of drifting into the ocean without having something to cling to. His fingers closed on the foliage, as if to anchor himself and allow him to regain his senses a little. But he was too exhausted. He had to sleep. Part of him wanted to fall asleep right here on the floor, which became strangely comfortable. He forced himself to open an eye that he knew would not stay open long before he really lost consciousness.

A new man was standing in front of him, squatting in Adam's outfit. Laurent's vision was far too vague for him to discern the features of his face. He gathered all his courage and the last remaining strength he has. He murmured a weak " Don’t hurt me please ..." before finally losing consciousness. The last thing he saw before sinking into the dark was two big red eyes shining like suns into the night.

 

_*** Forty-eight hours ago ***_

 

"Laurent, I swear we'll have a good time !” Aimeric sighed as he turned on the passenger seat to better observe the blonde in the back seat. “It will be really fun !”

Laurent glanced at him, a suspicious pout on his lips, but said nothing, returning to his contemplation of the landscape through the window of the car, his face resuming a certain worrying neutrality. He did not want to be there, did not want to go where his friends had decided to hang out. He would have preferred to stay at home, perhaps to study or to do what would go through his head, without having to bear other human beings and their exuberance. He also did not want to make an effort and be sociable. His friends had forcibly loaded him into the vehicle without giving him any indication of where they would go, promising that everything would be fine, explaining that he needed it, without even giving him a choice to say no.

Nicaise had gone like a cannonball into his room in the early hours of the morning, opening the curtains violently and shooting at him to get up from his bed from which Aimeric had pulled him unceremoniously in the minute that followed while Nicaise fumbled in his closet. Laurent had observed, with a waking eye, his things flying through the room while Nicaise stuffed them into a travel bag without even asking Laurent’s opinion of what he would have liked to take with him. Vannes had then taken him outside, still in his pajamas, and pushed him into the car, buckling his seatbelt herself as if to prevent him from escaping and being sure he wouldn’t. Without a word and without really understanding what was going on, he had watched Jord and the others fill the Range Rover with things for travelling before climbing into the vehicle and driving away.

And now, he saw the landscape scrolling quickly before his eyes. The only indication that he had been able to draw so far was that they took him to the mountains or to the countryside, the vehicles being rarer and the surrounding fauna more important. The quadruple road had turned into a simple departmental one, the forest bordering and skirting the asphalt. He had not once opened his mouth all the way, just sending a skeptical look every time he was spoken to or nodding if he took the trouble to. In a way, he had not uttered a word for several weeks now.

Laurent let his head go against the cold window and closed his eyes. It was the first night he had managed to sleep without nightmares since some time. He was exhausted, physically and psychologically. He had locked himself in his studies, drinking liters of coffee and smoking like never before. He was doing everything in his power not to let his mind wander. And finally, when the exhaustion had been too much and that he could finally sleep without waking with a start and soaking his sheets of sweat in the middle of the night, it was his friends who were responsible for missing to make him have a heart attack. They had had to plan the expedition for some time now, given the speed and co-ordination they had shown to pull him out of bed and prepare what was needed in no time. He could not help a sighing escaping from between his lips. Opening his tired eyes, his gaze fell on Aimeric, who was still looking at him, frowning and looking worried. He turned his head away and focused on the landscape.

After a while, he felt the vehicle slow down and then stop completely. He blinked and saw that he had fell asleep again without paying attention he was dozing off. He sat up straight in his seat, frowning. He ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes to chase away the last remnants of sleep and observed what was happening around him. The vehicle was stationary and the other occupants were already starting to unload it. He looked out the window to see that they were parked in front of a large multi-floors chalet. He unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door, slipping slowly outside, checking that his legs were not too numb after sitting for hours without actually moving. He took a few steps and observed the forest around the building, the gravel road and the architecture of the chalet. Although he would have preferred to stay in a big city, the decor was not too bad. The place even had a certain charm.

The smell of pines, of the earth and the fresh, pollution-free air came to his nostrils, snatching his first smile since several weeks. It was a small smile but it seemed almost foreign to him, the muscles of his jaw and his cheeks become rigid with time. Laurent took a deep breath and closed his eyes, savoring the sensation, before hearing the sneers from Nicaise who chilled him on the spot. His smile disappeared in the second and Laurent found his face impassive back. He glared at the teenager who was watching him, a grin on his lips, his arms loaded.

"Sleeping Beauty is awake? Good !” He threw the bag he was holding in his arms to Laurent, who caught it by a narrow margin. "Take that inside. The fact that you're still in pajamas doesn’t stop you from helping.” He added before disappearing into the trunk of the car.

Laurent thought for a moment that if he was still in his pajamas, it was the fault of his friends who had thrown him in the car like that, but said nothing. He slipped the strap of the travel bag over his shoulder and grabbed another bag near his feet. Going to the cottage, he continued to observe what was around him. He pushed the front door with his foot and discovered a large comfortable room. He almost believed himself to be in an American movie about Christmas. The room was family-run, filled with all the necessary furniture with some extra sofas covered with cushions and plaids. The big fireplace at the corner of the room even made an eye for him. Maybe staying in this place would not be as much of a chore as he thought.

He put down the bags he was holding at the foot of the big stairs with the rest of the stuff and went upstairs, preferring to discover the cottage than to stay with the others. He appreciated them and understood their efforts to pull him from his mutism and his disastrous state of mind, but Laurent still wanted to be alone. He let his fingers slide along the wood adorning the walls, observing the decorations that were engraved on them. He opened several doors, trying to locate the places. He discovered several rooms more or less all made on the same model, two large bathrooms, rooms which he did not necessarily understand the utility. He climbed upstairs and discovered a false attic under the roofs. The room was bright, bathed in the sun thanks to the large skylights that adorned the leaning ceiling. It was a bed room and according to whether Laurent was positioned on the bed or near the other window, he could either observe the sky or the forest as far as his eye could see. In the distance, he could see the roofs of the buildings of the city that did not seem to be so far, about ten minutes by car perhaps, or the roofs of the other chalets that sometimes rose above the trees. The view was beautiful. It was almost romantic.

Laurent stood there a moment without moving, arms crossed on his chest, to observe the landscape. He, who had always lived in the city, discovered a whole new world. He might have really seen the beauty of it if things had not gone that way and he did not have a constant aftertaste of rotting in the mouth. Now, he truly doubted that every beautiful thing he would see in his life was not blurred by his new state of mind, but he thought he could not do much. He had to accept the facts. In spite of himself, he scowled a little.

Footsteps were heard on the stairs and Laurent turned his head to see Jord, his arms laden with sacks, appear on the threshold of the door. The man smiled gently at him, a soft, understanding smile on his lips, before putting the bags near the door and approaching Laurent. The latter returned to his contemplation while Jord stood near him, facing the window to observe the landscape in turn.

"This house belonged to my family.” Announced the man in a low voice. "I grew up in this small town. As a teenager, I found it frustrating, I dreamed of adventures. Here there was nothing to do and I was bored quickly. "Laurent wanted to believe him on this point. "But when I became an adult, I understood why my parents were so keen on us growing up, my brothers and I, here.” Laurent turned his head to Jord, who kept staring at the window, his gaze wandering over the trees and the mounts. He had a nostalgic little smile on his lips. "It's a peaceful place, away from the hustle and bustle of big cities. Here, children can be children without needing to grow up too fast, surrounded by violence and fear. The worst that parents had to fear was that a wolf or a bear wander through the city, and the kids learn how to react in such cases, so it was not really a problem. "

Jord turned to Laurent and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you did not want to come.” He said softly. Laurent lowered his head. He did not want to appear for a little ungrateful brat when he saw the efforts his friends were making for him. It was just stronger than him, he preferred solitude to the company. "I also know that you feel safer at home and that you would rather be there to not think about things you don’t want to.” Jord leaned forward, trying to catch the younger man's gaze. "But you need to get out of your cocoon. Here, I know you'll get there.” His fingers squeezed Laurent's shoulder a little, and he looked up at the man. "It has not been a simple year for anyone, let alone for you. Here you can take the time to rebuild yourself until you feel strong enough to face the things you'll have to face on your way back to home. You need to change your mind.” Jord smirked before adding, "Then you know, it's not too much a lost place. There is internet and wifi.” Laurent had a discreet grin in his turn. "You can always focus on your studies if you feel the need, even here. You are not cut off from any civilization. "

Jord straightened and let go of Laurent's shoulder before heading for the exit. Laurent raised his head. He would have liked to thank the man but the words did not want to cross the barrier that formed his lips. Fortunately, he knew that Jord would not hold it against him. He was a good man and Laurent trusted him. Jord stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder, pointing to the bags on the floor.

"These are your things. I suspected you would like this room. You can settle here, you'll be in peace.” He gave him a last smile. "And if ever Nicaise comes to piss you off, there is a lock on the door.” Laurent nodded and the man left.

 

_*** Twenty-four hours ago ***_

 

The first day went off without a hitch. After several hours of setting up his own things in his new room, Laurent finally came down to help Jord, Aimeric, Nicaise and Vannes to tidy up the things they had brought with them in the different parts of the house. Against all expectations, Nicaise had filled all Laurent’s travel bags with everything Laurent could have possibly needed, and had not forgotten to take what Laurent considered necessary, that is to say his computer and his lecture books. The teenager even took the trouble to bring Laurent's favorite story books and the clothes he felt most comfortable with. From Nicaise, Laurent would rather have expected to find clothes that he only wore on very rare occasions or something to make him feel uncomfortable. At worst, as far as the books were concerned, Laurent could always have found them in a local shop or ordered them on the internet, but the teenager, in his own way, was trying to take care of him without showing it.

Vanne, Aimeric and Nicaise had done the whole conversation during the tidying up, talking about the last gossip they knew about and that internet allowed them to access, Jord had only spoken when it was really necessary and Laurent had stayed, as usual, silent. He had listened attentively though, some gossip was about people close to them and Laurent felt a little disconnected from the world for a few months. He had something else to think and manage but it was always interesting to know how others were evolving. Between two "so-and-so has deceived so-and-so" and "so-and-so has dropped so-and-so", Laurent had finally been able to learn a lot of things.

Later in the evening, a man named Orlant had joined them for the meal. Laurent learned that it was Jord's childhood friend, and Jord seemed more than happy to be able to see him again and introduce him to Aimeric. Conversations had been going well, all laughing around the table except Laurent, who in some way kept his cold face. Sometimes, a slight grin could appear on his lips after a good joke or story to disappear immediately. It was difficult for him to smile or to fully immerse himself in the good mood and atmosphere around him, but at least he was not thinking. He was just listening and that was enough for the moment.

The next morning, Laurent got up early. He had fallen asleep watching the stars through the window, lying on the comfortable bed, arms crossed behind his head. A big clear and starry sky. A sky like he could not usually see because of the lights of the city. That night either, he had not had nightmares especially, still too exhausted from the treatment he inflicted to himself and the long drive. But he got up in shape, and like the evening before, that was enough for the moment. He did not expect huge changes in his condition that would be visible immediately, but a little bit by little bit was all he asked for. Perhaps he would, one day, be better enough to take his life back where he left it off.

He went down the stairs slowly, listening to what was going on in the house. Vannes and Jord already seemed to be woken up, chatting quietly in the kitchen. When Laurent entered the room, the two turned to him with a smile. He just waved them with his hand, nodded when they asked him if he had slept well and served himself a cup of the steaming coffee that Jord must have just poured. He sat down at the table and listened to the others resume their conversation where they left off. He gently sipped the hot liquid and wondered what he could do today. This question quickly found an answer once Aimeric and Nicaise joined them, the traces of the sheets still visible on their faces and their hair in battle.

"We are already in the middle of the woods!” Nicaise groaned, dipping his head in his arms. "Why does Orlant want to take us camping in the forest? We already have everything there! Trees and shelter!"

"Because it's been a long time since we did it and he wants you to discover places that you will not be able to see if you stay locked here!” Jord said, hugging Aimeric against him with one arm, the younger letting his head fall against his shoulder.

"But we have all the time in the world for that.” Aimeric responded, not happy too to have to camp. "We do not have to do that immediately.”

"There are places I'd like to show you, too. The worry is that it is far and we will not have time to go back and forth in the day. That's why we'll be camping there, it's safer. But I swear to you, it’s wonderful there."

"Are you really sure of that?” Nicaise asked, raising his head.

"And just in case, we'll have everything we need to defend ourselves, if you're scared of wild beasts. But the place is safe. The only animals that could be seen are deer with their flocks.” Jord explained. He laid a kiss on Aimeric's forehead, who pouted, as uncertain as Nicaise.

Camping was not something that particularly bothered Laurent. He had done it several times during family vacations. But he and his family had never really moved to the land, they preferred quiet, reserved and secure corners. Holiday camping surrounded by other campers. The concern was that wilderness camping tempted him a lot less. He had heard enough and read stories about what could happen to people embarking themselves on wild camping, even the most seasoned. And he did not want to be face to face with a bear or a pack of wolves.

Laurent knew that Jord and Orlant would be prepared for all eventualities. They would not go on an expedition without warning the forest guards, would not take them to venture into unsafe lands and would always have something to call for help if an accident happened. He had just a bad feeling. Was it because he was used that life would get in his way or because he felt there would be a real danger? He did not know. But he could not stop his stomach from writhing unpleasantly even though he preferred not to show anything. It would be useless to fan the fears of Nicaise and Aimeric and maybe in any case, everything would be fine and Laurent was just a little paranoid.

That's why an hour later, they were all happily wandering in the forest, Nicaise whining for the form after the thickets that clung to his pants. The smell of the pines trees hit Laurent again, who relaxed a little and let himself go to observe the landscape. The forest was beautiful and clear, the trees strong and majestic, rising high in the sky. The path was a little winding but the sun piercing through the foliage lit enough to know where they were going without the risk of twisting their ankles.

They walked a long time, paying no attention to the time that was running faster than they could have thought. Jord and Orlant walked ahead, opening the path, chatting quietly as if to make up for time. Laurent could hear from time to time a burst of laughter from the men and see them slap their backs. They behaved as if they had never left each other. He could see that they had been raised together, some ways of reacting, some mimicry of their faces betrayed them. And when they spoke to the rest of the troupe, it was as if one could read the thoughts of the other.

Nicaise, Aimeric, and Vannes were walking just behind them, paying more attention than the two men to whom they were putting their feet, and simply continuing their conversation the night before. Gossip again and again. It was their favorite pastime. They also bickered from time to time, pushing each other gently or teasing each other. Laurent preferred to stay behind, closing the march. He did not want to take part in the different conversations and listened only distractedly, his attention focused on where his eyes were. Unconsciously, he tried to locate the ground. He even drove back the desire to mark some trees to be able to find out later. He had to learn to trust and Jord, like Orlant, knew what he was doing and where he was taking them.

In the middle of the afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky and tapping hard on their skin, they finally arrived at their destination. The dirt and pine thorns trail slowly turned into a pebble path. In front of Laurent then appeared an immense river, the water azure blue and clear as the sky. He could see the bottom of it, see every rock and detail as if he were watching it through a window. Some places were deep enough to be able to dive or jump from rocks higher, others allowed to expand while keeping the head out of the water without the need to float. Trees lined the river while leaving open spaces to settle comfortably. The view was magnificent.

The pebble beach was large enough to accommodate a camp, with some places of land that would allow them to pitch the tents. Some parts were sunny, others more in the shade, the trees forming natural parasols. Like the others, Laurent dropped his backpack on the ground and took off his shoes. Surprisingly, the pebbles did not produce an uncomfortable feeling of hardness under his feet. He understood much better, now that he had the landscape in front of him, why Jord had insisted so much that all take the necessary to bathe.

Laurent lifted the bottom of his pants, rolling it on his calves and walked slowly towards the water, testing the temperature with the tip of his foot. The pebbles were not burning as he might have thought and the water was not cold. On the contrary, it was at the perfect temperature so that it was refreshing while not causing a thermal shock when venturing there. Laurent stepped a little deeper into the water that came to his ankles before letting a sigh of well being escape from his lips and tilt his head back, the sun gently tapping on his face.

In addition to the scent of pines, mingled with the air of summer, heat warming rock, earth and water. Laurent could even hear the cicadas sing nearby. A slight smile appeared on his lips and the tension in his shoulders faded a little. He closed his eyes, enjoying this moment of peace. His bad feeling was still there but the prevailing mood left him hopeful that everything would be fine.

He opened his eyes while waiting for Nicaise's voice close to him before hearing the sound of a body coming into contact with the water. He had the reflex to depart just in time. The teenager had just jumped into the river not far from him and Laurent narrowly failed to be royally splashed. Nicaise burst out laughing and tried to water Laurent again, shouting at him to undress to join him. Indeed, Laurent was the last one still dressed, the others already being in swimsuits.

He went back to his bag and started taking out his things to change. He glanced behind him to make sure no one was watching and started to take off his clothes. Jord and Orlant were busy setting up the camp and gathering what was needed to make a fire later while Vannes and Aimeric had already joined Nicaise in the water. Laurent was not particularly modest, had no problem with nudity but he still preferred when no one looked at him. He always tried to be a minimum covered in public.

He put on his swim shorts and a white linen T-shirt, light enough not to keep him warm but keep him out of the sun. His skin was too fragile and unaccustomed to the sun. The few times he had had fun not protecting himself enough, he had ended up with severe sunburns. He did not want to end up with the burned skin and peel once the redness was gone. He knew he would not be able to tan anyway. His skin never took a pretty golden hue as he would have liked. No, if he tried hard to try, his skin would simply go through all the shades of pink and red before burning and finishing purple. And he did not particularly want to spend a week lying, without being able to wear any clothes, covered with cloths soaked in vinegar water to pass the burns and the pain, especially if it was to change skin like a snake once his skin had returned to a nearly normal color.

Laurent then spread his face, forearms and legs of sunscreen before heading in turn in the water under the laughter of Nicaise who laughed at his outfit. They stayed there enjoying the summer and the water, Jord and Orlant eventually joining them once the camp was ready. Laurent was content to float, a little away from others who alternated between chatting, jumping rocks or fighting in the water. His eyes closed, his arms spread, he let himself be carried by the water, as if he weighed nothing, and let his mind wander. He did not think of anything that could ruin his moment of relaxation and focused on the sensation of the fabric sticking to his skin, water around him. The sounds around him were distant and he ended up hearing only the sound of his own breathing and the current on the rocks. He stayed for a while, almost falling asleep until Jord came looking for him, worried that he would not see him move for a long time.

At the end of the afternoon, they finally came out of the water, their wrinkled skin to have stayed too long. Laurent wrapped himself up in one of the thick towels Jord had taken with him and sat by the fire Orlant lit in front of him. Once sure that the fire had taken hold, the man settled next to Laurent and handed him a pack of sandwiches and a bottle of cold tea while the others were settling around the fire.

"Jord warned me that you do not drink alcohol, this will do the trick? He asked Laurent, who gently grabbed the bottle, shaking his head. Orlant watched Laurent for a moment and opened his mouth to add something but was quickly cut by Nicaise.

"I warn you right now," the teen started. "If you expect him to answer you, you're wrong. Laurent does not speak. "

The man frowned and Laurent wondered why Nicaise intervened in this way, raising an eyebrow. Orlant had already remarked that Laurent merely listened and answered only by signs or movements of the head. The remark of the youngest perhaps wanted to be preventive but Laurent found it rather badly. Laurent watched him. The teenager probably wanted to tease him, to push him to speak. What Laurent would not do. He did not want to. And he still had less desire to give in to the whims of a teenager.

"I was just going to ask him if he knew how to sign because he does not want to talk. Replied the man before turning his head to Laurent. "If you do not want to talk, you do not have to. "

Laurent shrugged and contented himself with eating his meal in silence. He saw Jord put a little slap behind Nicaise's head before diverting the conversation to something else. They discussed Jord's and Orlant's childhood, telling anecdotes about the nonsense they might have made younger, often making their parents angry or anxious. The two men were not left out of adventures as crazy as each other. It could have been because of having thrown into the water from a cliff to measure their level of courage to having run away into the forest in the middle of the night because their parents had refused to go to a concert. far. As calm and calm as he might seem now when he was an adult, when he was a teenager, Jord was a fearless and thoughtless type, yielding to the slightest impulse. Throwing stones at a bear and being stuck in a tree for two days was a good illustration of this. Laurent could not help laughing when Orlant mimicked a young Jord trying to take care of himself from his branch on the bear to make him go further.

The discussion, going well, ended up drifting on local legends. Laurent was fascinated by the so-called legends. Often inspired by ancient Indian stories, they spoke about monsters hidden in the night or men capable of changing their forms.

"The legend I loved the most when I was little was the story that there were people who could turn into wolves." Jord explained. Silence reigned and everyone listened attentively to every word of the man. Laurent could hear the fire crackling every time Jord paused in his stories. "At bedtime, my mother told me the story of these men living in packs in the forest. She often told me that, in fact, all our lands were separated into different territories dominated by a dominant species. One species per territory. Without being really aware of it. In this state, it seems that it would be by these men wolves." Over the fire that lit up his face, Laurent could see the brilliance in Jord's eyes. A certain hidden fascination. "But they are not like the werewolf legends tell. No, here it is said that these men take the form of huge real wolves, bigger and more powerful than a male bear in all its glory. And they do not change just the nights of full moons. They can change everytimes they want, at will. "

"You have always dreamed of being one of them!" Orlant laughed.

" Of course ! Who would not dream of being able to transform into an animal?" Exclaimed Jord with a big smile. "Feel the wind in your fur, the earth under your feet when you run. To be stronger, faster than anyone, even in your human form." The man laughed. "It must be fabulous. "

"Only these are stories to frighten children and discourage them from escaping into the woods in the middle of the night!" Orlant commented.

"It did not really prevent us from doing it though." Jord looked down at Aimeric who was sitting against him. "Of course, as idiots as we were, we went to the forest to see if we found these men. "

"It does not even surprise me." The youngest said with a mocking grin.

"It is said that on evenings of full moons, we can hear them running and screaming at the moon. And if we have a chance, we can see them when the moonbeams cross the branches. We can see their eyes shine in the night. "

The man watched each person around the fire, letting his words weigh. Of course, he chose to tell this story on a moonlit night.

"Ok, that's enough for me! Nicaise said standing up. "I'm going to bed. You're going to scare me with your monster stories. Good night !” He went without another word to his tent, where he shut himself up.

Laurent noticed that it was not a bad idea to go to bed. It was late, his bathing had tired him and he was beginning to feel the first signs of sleep. He almost wanted to stay there by the fire, wrapped in the blankets and fall asleep, but it was not safe enough for him. He still preferred to sleep with something above him to give him a semblance of protection. He straightened himself, greeted the others with a nod and a small wave of his hand, and went to his own tent.

He lay on his makeshift mattress, stretching like a cat before curling up on him. He put his cushion back under his head, pulled the blanket over him, replaced it to form a cocoon or a nest that would protect him from the rest of the world and closed his eyes. He let himself be carried away by the singing of the cicadas and the crackling of fire which he even heard in his tent. He could hear an owl hooting nearby. Letting out a sigh, he fell asleep.

Laurent was awake after what he thought was only a few minutes. At first disoriented, he rubbed his eyes, wondering what could have awakened him. It was still dark outside, the day was probably far from rising. Then he heard a sound near his tent, like a crack. This sound was followed by heavy breathing. He frowned.

He sat down slowly, listening carefully to what was going on around him. Other crackles were heard, light like someone walking delicately on branches but trying not to make some noises. He heard the breath go around his tent, as if someone or something was encircling him. His stomach knotted, he could not help wondering if a beast did not wander freely in the camp. He tried not to think about the stories Jord and Orlant had told them. He did not want to give in to unnecessary fright. He told himself that these stories were just children's stories.

Tales for children who found themselves strangely realistic when a shadow was projected on the fabric of his tent. Holding his breath, he did not dare to move. The shadow was shaped like a huge animal walking on all fours, moving with terrifying slowness. Further on, he heard whispers and he turned his head to see another shadow near his tent. Swallowing, he thought that he did not like what he was seeing and that he really hoped it was a nightmare. A bad nightmare but a nightmare all the same.

Laurent heard the voices of Jord, Aimeric and Nicaise, their whispers perfectly perceptible despite the surrounding noises. He focused on his breathing, trying to be as less noisy as possible. He heard a grunt near his tent, then another. He heard the sound of a zipper being opened and it was chaos.

Nicaise screamed. Laurent heard other tents open and swearing sounded. Grunts intensified and he heard Jord and Orlant shouting orders, without really understanding them. He was paralyzed. One of the shadows was encamped in front of his tent, his breath moving the fabric, in an aggressive position. Laurent heard the sounds of fights, bodies bumping against each other.

He jumped violently when something collided with his tent, causing it to collapse under the weight of what had just landed on it. He let out a cry and stepped back as best he could. Something then tore the fabric of the tent with a great claw and Laurent rushed outside. He found himself in the dark, the moon hidden by the trees and probably clouds. The only sources of light came from flashlights and remnants of fire. Which was not enough for him to really see what was going on around him.

Things were running around them, too fast to be seen. Laurent knew this technique, that of a predator encircling his prey, trying to disorient it before jumping on it. And immediately, his friends and he were the preys. A low grunt sounded behind him. Laurent turned hastily, trying to face what was trying to attack him. But he distinguished only an immense form. And two big bright yellow eyes in the dark.

Suddenly sucking a sharp breath, Laurent began to retreat slowly. He tried to be careful where he was going, but he could not look away from the figure. He could hear its breathing, producing animal sounds, the branches crunching under the weight of its body as it advanced toward him. A shot rang out, resonating in the night. Laurent’s ears whistled. The beast slumped to the ground. Another blow was heard and yelps and other grunts were heard. Panting, Laurent remained on his guard, continuing to recoil slowly, ready to flee as fast as he could if it was necessary until he heard one thing:

"RUN !"

 

_*** Present ***_

 

Laurent had the impression of having gotten the biggest drunk of all his life. He felt completely groggy, hangover, heavy body and dry mouth with an unpleasant aftertaste of copper. His whole body was aching and he did not know where he was. He could not even tell if he was in a bed or on tiles. If he were currently in a bathtub filled with ice with one less kidney and a fresh scar, he would have been unable to notice. Grunting, he tried to reconnect with his body and thoughts but everything was terribly cloudy. He could not think or move.

Until he reconnected. The first thing he felt was pain. The pain that seemed to be first a heavy sensation in the back of his skull turned into a sharp sensation, as if he had been skinned, flayed leaving only his muscles and tendons in the open air. He had the impression that someone was amusing themselves - really sadistically - with driving a screwdriver into his temples and eyes, turning itover and over again with an extreme slowness. Every part of his body threw him horribly.

Then he remembered. Flashes of what had happened came back to him to his memory. His heart began to pound in his chest, failing to break his ribs to get out of his rib cage. Laurent struggled with his own body, giving in to anxiety and fear, his survival instinct taking over. He had to open his eyes, wake up, regain consciousness. He had to make sure he was safe or fight to be. He could not die like that. He did not want to die like that. If he had to think about the situation, about what happened, he would do it once he made sure he was safe.

He opened his eyes violently, sharply inhaling the air around him, his lungs contracting and burning, his chest rising. He straightened himself up with all the will and strength he could put on it, shouting to give himself more courage and to fight against the pain that knotted his body. He gasped, looking around, his fingers clutching the sheets to anchor himself to something. He blinked several times, casting off the confusion of his vision. He had to see clearly. Notice as many things as possible around him to get out of any compromising position. The pain in his shoulder was much more intense. He hissed, carrying his hand to his injured limb.

But all he saw was a charming and lovely sun-drenched room with wooden walls and a large window on the side illuminating the room. He was not currently in a bathtub but in a large bed with white cotton sheets. Frowning, he slowly took a breath as he studied the place. The sheets were stained with blood where his leg was, the one the wolf had bitten, as well as the place that had previously covered his shoulder. He looked down at his wounds and naked chest, covered in bandages. He tried to move his legs but felt like he was tied up or stuck in something that was preventing him from moving. He slowly lifted the sheet, afraid of what he could find under it. He then noticed that one of his legs, the one that the wolf had bitten, was covered too with a bandage, these rising above his knee, while the other seemed to have a splint at his level ankle. On the bandages, dried blood spots were visible. Looking up at his shoulder, he noticed that it was the same for these bandages.

Laurent lifted his hands to his face, noting that they too were covered with bandages. He moved his fingers gently, checking their mobility, then, with his fingertips, touched his head. He was not surprised to find that here, too, there were bandages.  He could feel the fabric under his fingers. He really was in bad shape. He dropped his hands and looked around him again. And sighed with relief. He was safe. He was not in a filthy den with infected wounds near to being devoured or he did not know what to imagine others. He had managed to survive.

A sound like a cat purring in the room caught his attention. Turning his head towards the source of the sound, he froze on the spot, his breathing stuck in his throat. Laurent swallowed hard to see what was in front of his eyes. No, he was not safe. Not at all safe.

A huge, black fur wolf was rolled into a ball not far from his bed on what appeared to be blankets. The beast was sleeping, snoring softly. The purring sound came from there, from the wolf. Without really paying attention where he put his hands, a little alarmed, Laurent tried to get up and to catch the first heavy enough object with which he could defend himself. He took his feet in the sheets, falling miserably to the ground in a loud thud, unable to lean on his legs, too weak and too hurt to carry him. He stifled a cry of pain, groaning as he bit his lip. He sat up with the help of his arms and froze again, his head turned to the ground.

The sound of a rustle of sheets and rattling on the floor sounded in the room. Laurent did not dare to raise his head. Clenching his jaw and closing his eyes, he winced as he swallowed. He felt the wolf approach him, he felt his presence near him. Far too near. Shivers ran through his whole body. But the beast stopped two meters from him and did not move anymore. Taking his courage with both hands, Laurent first looked up, seeing the massive legs of the beast and his huge build, then lifted his face, without leaving the animal with this eyes. Slowly. His eyes rested on the wolf's chest, then on his throat. He could see the wolf's chest heaving slowly. Breathing carefully, he continued to lift his head, crossing the eyes of the wolf who was staring at him in return. Two big red eyes shining like suns, even by the light of day. Laurent swallowed again.

 

_And to say that his friends had promised him that everything would be fine..._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read this story. I really hope you liked it !  
> If you have questions about it, don't hesitate to ask. 
> 
>  
> 
> See you in the next chapter !


	2. You're not dreaming

_Breathing carefully, he continued to lift his head, crossing the eyes of the wolf who was staring at him in return. Two big red eyes shining like suns, even by the light of day. Laurent swallowed again._

_And to say that his friends had promised him that everything would be fine…_

 

Well camped on his sturdy legs, the wolf was watching him from his full height. He was huge with large muscles that Laurent could see even under the thick fur. They formed waves under the skin and the hair, all emerging like mountain valleys. A broad chest. Vast, thick legs. A powerful jaw. Sharp fangs. Bright eyes. With a little hindsight, Laurent realized that they were almost human. At least, he could almost believe they were when forgetting their shinning color.

He wondered how it was only possible for a monster of this size to have been able to fit in the room. And even more how he had been able to pass through the door. Maybe there was more fur than flesh. But, he was bigger than a bear, more potent than any animal that Laurent had ever met, as high as a stallion in the best of his form. The walls seemed to move away, to distort on their own to adjust to the size of the wolf. To make him fit in the room. Even with his well-measured seventy points eight inches, Laurent wondered if the beast was not like a head or two higher than him when he took a proud stance, held his neck and head upright and high.

Laurent did not dare to look away, as if only the act itself would lead him to certain death. The wolf was frightening, and Laurent did not know what to do. He could not look around to catch an object to defend himself, the pain in his limbs and head was severely throbbing, he was dizzy and far too afraid to make the slightest movement that would trigger a dangerous reaction in the beast in front of him. He could not think clearly about what to do, couldn’t analyze what was happening, this situation, and what could or would happen because of the constant impression that he was being slapped, again and again, each time his blood was beating in his temples. So, he remained here, without doing the slightest movement, panting and swallowing hard for several seconds which seemed to be an eternity.

The wolf seemed to scrutinize every part of Laurent’s body, as if he were looking for information about him. Something or everything, Laurent didn’t know. Surprisingly, he noticed that the wolf was not looking at him as if he was about to devour him. His eyes were soft, with a touch of questioning. He held now his head low, in a posture that expressed nothing of aggression but rather curiosity and calm. His tail swept almost on the ground smoothly in large, vast, slow movements. Laurent could see the long ruffled fluffy hair brushing against the floor.

Then, suddenly, the wolf raised his head, sniffing the air almost violently, before his eyes fell on Laurent again, newly shinning. Bright red. Laurent could see something passing by on it, like a shadow, and the beast began to growl. The grunt was short but strong enough to terrorize Laurent who felt the sound vibrate in his chest. It almost made him flatten on the ground to submit himself, but he didn’t. His eyes widening, he choked on his breath. He wondered why the wolf was starting to behave aggressively, what he could have done for making him act like that, while he retreated as best and as far as he could. Quickly, his back banged against the wall between the bed and the bedside table. And he was stuck.

The wolf began to approach again. Laurent looked, finally, around him. The bedside lamp had rolled further when he knocked on the table, too far to be at hand. The bedside table was too heavy for him to lift it with only one arm, his shoulder too injured for supporting its weight. The wolf continued to come nearer, dangerously close. Panting, eyes blurring because of the dizziness and the cold sweat that rolled on his temples and forehead for falling in it, Laurent groped blindly on the bed and grabbed a cushion that he threw to the animal with all his might. Not as much strength that he would have liked to put on the gesture but enough for the wolf to receive it in the face. But it didn’t stop him. The beast shook his head, fur moving with the movement, and looked at Laurent before trying to get closer again.

“Don’t come near me !” Laurent yelled to the wolf, stiffening his back a little more against the wall.

Fumbling around him again, he grabbed the new closest object to him and threw it violently at the wolf who took it, once again, in the face. The beast moved backward defensively this time, his paws scratching the wood floor, shook his head again before looking at the object that Laurent had thrown at him. Laurent did the same before wincing. A boot. Laurent had thrown at him a boot, in the face. A boot. In the face. He thought, disillusioned, that he could have grabbed something bigger and more dangerous than a poor boot. “Shit…” he thought, clenching his jaw. But it must have had a particular effect on the wolf, who looked at Laurent with an expression that almost swung between jaded and outraged, his ears back, stuck to his skull, to the astonishment of the latter, before sighing heavily, his chest lifting up and moving with force, and turning away to leave by the open door of the room, trotting.

“The fuck ?!” Laurent whispered. Looking for what could have triggered this reaction in the wolf, his eyes fell on his bandages. New blood stains had appeared while he was paying no attention, surely from his fall from the bed. That was probably what made the wolf grunt, fresh blood. Laurent could even smell the metallic copper odor spread in the air, invading and filling the whole room. Touching his bandages lightly with his fingertips, he quickly found his hand wet, covered with dark red. Sighing, he dropped it on his thigh and let his head fall back against the wall behind him, eyes closed. Thinking about the whole situation where he found himself, he thought he had experienced better awakenings. Before remembering that the beast was still roaming freely in the house.

Opening his eyes wide, he looked around before crawling to the lamp that he pulled towards him by the wire. He, then, went back to the bed and climbed on it, the light near him, ready for any possible attacks. Footsteps quickly echoed through the stairs until the bedroom, and voices that seemed alarmed. His fingers clamped around the lamp and he lifted it above his head with both arms, even if the gesture was hurting him, ignoring the pain that spread in his shoulder, ready to fight back. It was out of the question that one more beast or freaking psychopath approach him again. Just as quickly, a familiar figure appeared in the door frame, then another, and another again and Laurent couldn’t help but let the lamp fall on the bed. His face lit up and a sigh of relief crossed his lips. He opened his arms, indulging himself of the weakness of a comforting and reassuring human touch, reaching out to grab the dark-haired head that almost flew to the bed to throw himself into Laurent’s arms.

“You’re finally awake !” Nicaise shouted, settling on Laurent’s knees to hug him. The force that the teenager put in the hug expelled all the air that contained Laurent’s lungs, but the latter did not care. Of course, if the teenager allowed himself to take Laurent in his arms, a gesture that none of them would have allowed himself to do in other circumstance, it was undoubtedly because he must have been terrified to see the older in this state. And Laurent was happy to see him too, safe. He had not had time to wonder what had happened to the others, with such an eventful awakening, but he was still worried. What had happened to them? How did they escape? Had the strange pack pursued them? Did someone help them? Then he froze, stiffening in Nicaise’s arms who moved away abruptly. Indeed, how had they managed to escape the pack? And had Laurent hallucinated? He blanched, his mouth opening slightly, his eyes widening.

Nicaise must have felt it because he caught Laurent's face in his hands and frowned as he watched him, scrutinizing the slightest detail. "Laurent, everything is fine. You are safe now.” He said softly. But Laurent's eyes were vague, fixing a point in the void. It was not possible, right ? What had happened, all these strange events, had not really occurred. Right ? Laurent thought it must be the fault of adrenaline or the shock when he hit his head. But the events of that night came back with full force in his memory once again.

He remembered everything with a mind-blowing clarity, the slightest detail. He reminded the sounds of bones breaking, of the grunts around him, of the sharp breaths and limbs sinking into the earth and branches. He remembered the air and shadows moving around him, too fast for him to be able to see something. He remembered the blue eyes of the man in front of him, his bloody flesh falling to the floor in pieces. He remembered the shivers that had run through his body, the dread he had felt. His breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, Laurent thought himself in a bad dream. A very bad dream and he felt the anxiousness rise in the hollow of his chest. His fingers gripped the sheets, feeling the need to hold on to something. Stuck in his head, he did not hear Nicaise call him, nor did he feel him withdraw from his thighs. Someone grabbed his face again, forcing him to turn his head and a light invaded his eyes. But he did not move, he could not do it. The events were looping in his mind, playing before his eyes. He did not realize that he had trouble breathing, whistling with each breath, his chest rising too quickly and his pulse beating too hard.

It was a new head appearing in the field of his vision as his eyes were turned toward the door that pulled Laurent from his stupor. An unknown face but yet, in a strange way, so familiar. A look similar to the one that haunted his mind. Laurent jumped violently and rushed out of bed, catching the lamp, trying to get as far away as possible from the others, to put the most distance between him and this stranger who had dared to approach him. Falling back to the ground, unable to lean on his legs, he crawled to the wall, not realizing that Jord had rushed behind him, almost shouting his name as he saw him act like that.

Once he was sure he had his back against the wall, back he would not have to protect if someone attacked him, even though he was stuck in a corner of the room, Laurent raised the lamp, holding it like a weapon. All his senses were on alert. He was in an unfamiliar place, with traumatic memories that blocked his ability to think calmly, the pain hammering his skull. Perhaps his friends were there, safe and sound, but why were they in the company of this stranger, this man who looked so much like the one in the forest? And sincerely, Laurent began to doubt the veracity of the information transmitted to him by his head. He wondered if his mind was still healthy. Maybe everything he had gone through finally got the better of him, drove him crazy. The pack was perhaps only a trigger for him to do a decompensation once and for all.

Jord stopped on the spot, almost stumbling. His face annoyed, he slowly raised his hands as a sign of peace. He struggled to stay a certain distance from the legs of the youngest, knowing perfectly well that if he had the chance, Laurent would kick him away. In this state, Laurent could become someone dangerous, for him as for others. The goal of Jord was undoubtedly not to scare Laurent and push him to hurt himself even more. He stood there, his arms raised with a concerned and worried look on his face, digging at the slight wrinkles that were already forming there.

"Laurent ..." he began.

"Stay away from me !" The latter cut him off, his voice hoarse after spending so many months without using it. He surprised himself slightly, fear and anguish were visibly giving him enough strength to speak.

Jord's eyes widened, as did Nicaise, Vannes, and Aimeric. Vannes put his hands to her mouth, gasping noisily and Nicaise stiffened violently. They all had shocked looks. Only the man Laurent did not know did not react. He just looked out by the window, slightly sat on the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. Like the man in the forest, he was monstrously tall. He was a mountain of muscles so thick that it looked as if the fabric of his T-shirt was about to tear. He remained silent, staring outside, and Laurent turned his attention back to Jord.

"Stay away from me ..." he repeated more slowly, breathing heavily. He swallowed hard. "How?"

"Laurent ..." Jord began again.

"How ?!" Laurent shouted, threateningly shaking the lamp. He felt at the tone of his friend that he did not want to respond to him frankly, hiding something that Laurent already knew but still needed to hear.

Jord took a step back and pinched his lips into a thin line. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the others' reactions, questioning them with his eyes. Nicaise's face was pale, Aimeric was stiff, and Vannes had finally sat on the bed in shock. None of them was used to such reactions in Laurent, and none of them had expected such a violent response. Nor to hear him say a single word. Laurent was not the type to lose his temper, even when he faced the worst situations. Whenever he had to face something horrible, he had always done it with an Olympian calm, showing nothing of what could well be happening inside him. It was this kind of behavior that ended up getting the better of him and making him shut up entirely, forcing him not even to speak to express what he was feeling. But that day, Laurent was anything but calm. He was utterly incapable of it. And seeing that no one answered him, he grew impatient.

"In the forest… "

"You have not hallucinated if that's what you're asking." Announced a low voice.

Laurent turned his eyes to the man who was staring at him now, his face closed, his dark eyes slightly wrinkled and his jaw clenched.

"Sorry ?" He asked, not sure if he had heard correctly.

The man turned entirely toward him, still leaning against the window. "You did not hallucinate or imagine what you saw in the forest that night if that's what you're asking." He repeated, still softly, taking the time to articulate each word carefully.

Laurent took a few moments to react, eyes still wide, digesting what he had just heard.   Accusing the blow, he released the lamp that burst on the ground, a few pieces rolling further. He slowly brought his hands to his skull, gripping his cold-sweat-soaked hair that was now sticking to his forehead, his eyes searching in the emptiness for answers he knew he would not find there. He had not imagined all that. He was not going crazy. It meant that everything he saw was real. Realizing this, a considerable shiver ran through him as he remembered the sound of crunching bones and pieces of flesh falling to the ground. But he did not understand how it was only possible. How could such a thing exist? How could a man change into an animal? And especially of this size?

He felt his chest tighten and, lost, he rested his eyes on the man before closing them. He had to calm down, he would come to nothing if he stayed that way, ravaged by his emotions, controlled by them. He had to control his fear and misunderstanding, get back on top. He had to think about what he was going to say, what he was going to do. And he had so many questions that he no longer knew how to formulate them. He took a deep breath, irritating his throat and painfully relaxing his lungs. He waited a second before exhaling and repeated the process several times.

Slowly but surely, he felt his pulse subside, his heart beat less hard in his chest, and his muscles relax. He dropped his hands and opened his eyes, decided. "How?" He repeated, his voice cold, leaving no implied hovering.

The man returned his gaze. Laurent saw the muscles of his jaw contract for a thousandth of a second. The question displeased the man, so much the better, it was not made to please him. The truth was never pleasant to say or to hear. "You should ask Jord about that." He replied, just as coldly. "It's not my role to explain it to you."

"I'm asking you, not Jord." Laurent said.

"Laurent, listen ..." Jord tried again.

"I said, I don't speak to you." The younger one cut him off again without taking his eyes off the man who tinkled.

He uncrossed his arms from his chest. "Are you only ready to hear it?”

"Do I really have a choice?" Replied Laurent. It was his turn to tighten his jaw. He did not like when the people he was talking to were beating around the bush when he was waiting for an answer.

"We always have the choice.”

"No.” It was the experience that spoke for Laurent, all his bad memories. "Not always ..." he said more softly, lowering his eyes lightly before lifting them up again. He should not think about that, not now. He pulled himself together "All right, spit it out."

"Don’t you know how to ask politely?” The man asked, looking at him almost disdainfully, a grimace on his face.

Laurent snorted with as much as disdain. "Not when I wake up with the head full of strange memories, in an unknown place with a huge beast that's bigger than me even when I'm standing up and I find my friends in the company of a man who looks like a little too much for my taste to the psychopath who attacked me in the woods. So no, I don’t know and I don’t want to ask politely. "

The man winced again when he heard that, but this time as if Laurent had touched a sensitive chord and that his answer was particularly unpleasant to listen. But honestly, Laurent did not care. He was in a bad mood, and if he had to put everyone in such a bad mood to get answers, he would not hesitate for a second. He saw the man turn to the window again, exposing his back completely. He was silent for a moment yet, but that gesture did not annoy Laurent. He could see the muscles of his jaw and throat contract, those of his back tensing. The man was searching for his words with great care and what he was about to reveal was not a simple thing to say, which apparently was stressing him considerably.

Laurent saw him release a breath, his shoulders falling slightly before the man glanced over his shoulder at Laurent, frowning. He opened his mouth. "Well..."

 

 

_*** A few hours later ***_

 

 

Laurent watched the wind move the leaves and branches of the trees, making them bend under his will. The air was fresh and the breeze light, refreshing. The sky was sunny and bright, radiating a beautiful azure blue. The sun lit up and warmed the earth. Like the trees, Laurent could see the clouds moving in the rhythm of the currents of the wind, being carried far away. He discerned some shapes and imagined stories in his mind, where the heroes could fly far higher than the birds, meeting with lions shaped clouds and fighting dragons. With the arrival of summer, the trees had taken a beautiful emerald color, rising proudly from the ground to the sky, extending with all their splendor with their strong roots and powerful trunks. The landscape like the weather was absolutely beautiful.

A flock of birds flew up to the sky, squealing happily, and Laurent, watching them hover, wondered what it could do, how it might feel, to be as light as air and to be able to let go without having nothing to think of other than the variations of current that always took us higher. Leaning slightly over the balustrade of the terrace, he watched them move away, flapping their wings to the sun.

Once he could not see them anymore, even when writhing in his chair, he let himself fall heavily back, the rocking-chair rocking slightly under his weight. Laurent sighed and returned to the contemplation of what was around him. The place was lovely. From where he was, he could see the nearby river, almost a lake, and the large meadow that surrounded the raised wooden house, lined by the forest. The cottage, like the one where he had resided a few hours before the attack in the woods, was luxurious. And huge.

But his heart was not to the contemplation of the beauty of the landscape. He was only observing it passively. His mind was clouded by the discussion he had earlier with the man. Laurent replayed it in loops in his head, like the events in the forest. He still did not understand how such magic could exist. But what worried him most was not the magic or legends which became real in the space of a few hours. No. It was the related events that had driven him into such a situation. He let his head go against the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling.

He remembered the man's concerned voice, his twisted face in an uncomfortable grimace, Laurent watching him with an impassive face as he digested the flood of new information he was hearing. He did not have except that. Not really. He had hoped, in his interior, that it would have been just a hallucinogenic mushroom in which he would have hit as he ran without paying attention where he set foot and that would make him see things, the substitution too real. But no.

The man then had explained to him, in a low voice, that everything he had seen was real. That the legends that Jord had told them when they were near the fire were real. Existed. He had told that in this part of the country, as in many other places, lived extraordinary creatures, hidden from the eyes of the human beings, mingling with the people who had no idea of their existence. Here, in this small town, ruled men more powerful than the others, able to turn into wolves, living in packs and hunting prey at night. That this place was their territory.

Laurent had then blanched, his face falling, finding that Jord was aware of this slight detail that implied that it was not mere legends but indeed a reality. He saw the faces of his friends transforming into grimaces, already aware of the story but not very comfortable with hearing it a second time. Nicaise had ended up leaving the room, on the verge of tears, his world completely turned upside down, no longer supporting the story of the man. He may have been a teenager but he was still a child. A child who saw before his eyes his world change without being able to do anything, pushing himself completely helpless, and who would surely be forced, after this experience, to sleep with a knife and to check if the monsters did not hide under his bed. Laurent understood him so much.

The teenager, like Laurent, thought that he had already dealt with the only monsters that existed in this world, perfidious and perverse men who had not left him without aftermath and who had robbed him of his innocence. Now, like Laurent, he learned that other monsters could very well attack him and that eventually, he might never be safe again. Laurent knew, when he watched him leave without being able to go after him, that the teenager had gone to take refuge in his bed, well hidden under his blankets, as if they could protect him from the world in which he was and from its dangers. Laurent would have done the same if he had not been stuck in a room full of people he could not trust anymore.

But he must have stayed there, listening to answers and truths he feared after that night without being able to flee at his turn. Answers and truths he did not want to hear even if he had no choice, even if he had to know. He couldn’t defend himself against something he did not know, after all. The man continued his story, explaining that at full moon, the senses of the wolves were increased tenfold, making them stronger and faster. They could smell the odors of prey for miles. And that apparently, Laurent had aroused their curiosity because usually, the packs did not chase human beings. It was against the rules.

When Laurent had asked why, the man had just shrugged, staring desperately at the outside through the window, not leaving it with his eyes, body tensed, clenched fists with white knuckles, categorically refusing to look at the youngest. Laurent knew he was hiding something from him, but what he had learned already made a lot of things to digest in a short time, especially when he had just woken up and recovered from his convalescence, which had actually lasted longer he would have thought. A whole week during when he stayed unconscious.

Laurent had asked then, his septic side taking over, if only all that were real. He had then seen the man turn slowly to move in a space far from the others, where the wolf had stood at his awakening. He had watched him take off his clothes, frowning, while Vannes and Aimeric had hurried off the room. Jord had just sat on the bed, clutching the sheets, his face uncertain, his glance wandering between Laurent and the man. The man had stared at Laurent for a moment before, under Laurent's stupefied gaze, his eyes began to glow with a powerful and lively red, taking on an animal form. At the first sound of crunching bones, Laurent started to scream, terrified, and curled up on himself, covering his ears and clutching his eyes, his memories coming up to his mind again.

It had taken several minutes for Laurent to calm down and when he had finally raised his head, trembling and sweaty, only Jord was still in the room. The man had picked up his clothes and left without ceremony. From that moment on, he had returned to his habitual silence, refusing to utter a single word. Jord tried to force him to speak, but when the man had approached him, Laurent had just kicked him away, not wanting to be touched or approached less than a meter away. Especially not Jord who had lied to him without really wanting it and put him in danger. Laurent should never have come to this place and Jord should never have taken him there. Not after all he had lived. Not after the year he had just passed.

Jord did not doubt that things would happen like this, Laurent knew it, but unconsciously Jord had taken a risk. An unnecessary and inconsiderate risk, even if it started with good attention, especially when he knew that Laurent was a problem magnet. If Laurent had initially decided to hide at home, well away, it was not for nothing. It was not a whim or a last fad of an associable being. No, it was because he knew the risks he ran by putting his nose out and he refused to face them. He knew he could be in danger, as well as the others. For him, it was an unnecessary risk to take.

Jord, looking like a kicked puppy, had left the room, leaving only Laurent, who had been sitting curled up in his corner of the room, his knees against his chest, for an eternity, fixing the opposite wall, without moving. When he had finally decided, he had crawled to the window, hoisting himself up as he could with the strength of his arms to observe the outside, leaning hard on his aching legs.

He had watched for a moment Aimeric and Vannes discuss with Orlant and the man outside, the latter regularly glancing towards the window. Laurent had dropped back and crawled to the bed on which he had been sitting. Moments later, he had seen Nicaise come back into the room, his eyes red, sniffing slightly. He had then stuck to Laurent and put his head on his shoulder. Laurent had realized then that the teenager was probably the only person he still trusted in this house.

Later, Nicaise had helped him down the stairs, the older man standing at the railing so as not to press all his weight on the teenager. He had then deposited him in the rocking-chair on the terrace so that Laurent could take the fresh air, bringing him something to drink and eat. Since then, Laurent had not moved, lost in thought. He did not know what time it could be, how many time he stayed here, nor what others were doing. Vannes had tried to talk to him but he did not have the strength to answer her, watching the distance. Realizing that now that he was calmer, Laurent would no longer open his mouth to speak, she had apologized and left.

 A noise near him caught his attention, pulling him out of his memories. The man was standing a few feet away, a sympathetic smile on his lips even if that smile did not reach his eyes. Laurent watched him approach slowly to sit on a chair next to him but did not feel the need to push him away. The man remained at a distance that Laurent thought was sufficient. He handed him a cup without saying anything. Laurent stared at the cup for a moment, not knowing how to react before finally accepting it, thanking him with a nod. He lifted it to his lips and watched the man do the same with his own cup. Laurent realized that it was simply tea, probably with red fruits seen the taste, and lowered his guard a little.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the man pull a cigarette from a bundle in a small pocket on the front of his T-shirt and light it before breathing in. He watched as his chest slowly lifted up, the fabric of his top was stretched, his lips slowly spreading away to expel the black smoke from his lungs. Laurent noticed that when the man did not look so upset and severe, he looked much younger than he would have thought. He carefully observed the features of his face.

The man had a slight scar on his cheekbone, far too clear to be seen from afar, as thin as a cat's scratch. His nose was straight, aquiline, just slightly deformed by a small lump, as if his nose had once been broken. His mouth was luscious, his lips seemed soft despite the fact that they had thin scars on them, probably caused during battle or by a supposed lousy habit of biting them constantly under stress. His beard, thicker around his mouth and chin than on his cheeks, reinforced the square effect of his jaw, aging him and giving him a more mature look. He had small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and between his eyebrows. His skin, already a beautiful olive color, was tanned, as if he had stayed too long under the sun. Laurent could discern some lighter spots when he looked down at his arms or throat. But even at the levels where the man's skin was lighter, next to him, Laurent passed for an albino or someone who had never seen the sun in his life.

As his eyes wandered to the man's hair, watching his slight curls form tufts around his head, as if they were indomitable, always in battle, Laurent met the gaze of the man who observed him back with the same curious air as the wolf earlier in the day. He then saw a discreet grin appears on his lips before the man turned his head to look at the horizon when carrying his cigarette to his mouth. Laurent turned his head in turn, hiding his slightly flushed cheeks for being caught observing him so openly. Usually, he would have tried to be more discreet but he had not realized that he had almost wholly rotated his body to the man, so he was lost in his contemplation.

Strangely, Laurent had the impression that something was coming from the man. He was radiating but he could not know precisely what it was. And since the man had settled at his side, Laurent had a smell that reminded him of the summer that was coming to his nose. He could not discern the fragrances, but he could not help thinking that he appreciated it. He could not tell if that smell came from the man or his surroundings, the sun high in the sky tapping hard, illuminating the meadow and warming the earth. But Laurent had the image of the sea that haunted his mind, unable to detach himself from the sensation that made him feel the smell of salt around him.

Bringing his cup to his mouth again and gently sipping the liquid inside, savoring the taste, Laurent could not help but let his eyes wander back to the man. Something was fascinating about him that Laurent did not understand. He could not put his finger on it. He could stir in his head the elements he had at his disposal, try to make connections between them, he could not find what it was. He wanted to ask questions, hoping that this time, the man would not answer him half or hiding things but he did not find the strength to bring out any sound from his mouth. Sighing, he dropped his cup on his lap and lowered his head. He felt perfectly helpless. And he realized that he did not even know the name of the man next to him.

Opening his mouth, trying to force a sound out of his throat, he was quickly cut by the man who said softly "You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” without taking his eyes off the forest. Laurent raised his head and frowned, watching the man who smiled gently.

"The others told me that before... the accident... in the forest, you didn’t speak.” He turned his head to Laurent, his gentle smile still on his lips. "You don’t have to force yourself here. Or at least not with me. "

Laurent saw him drop his cup on a small table not far from them and get up to enter the house. He watched him do, not understanding why the man was leaving suddenly, before he heard a stir in the room behind him. Laurent tried to turn around in his chair to see what was happening in the house through the window before hearing a thud, a distinctive "Ouch !" and a grunt, and seeing the man come back, frowning, a sulky pout on his lips, rubbing his hips. The man sat down next to Laurent and handed him something. Lowering his eyes, Laurent realized that the man was holding a notebook and a pencil with a rubber on it. He looked up at him, questioning him with his eyes.

"If you want to tell me something, you can always write it.” He explained with a small gesture of the hand with which he held the notebook and the pencil towards Laurent. Laurent seized them slowly, observing the man's reactions, and brought them back to him. The man smiled at him again and grabbed a new cigarette in his pocket. "I can also sign if you prefer.” Laurent frowned and the man seemed to understand the question he was asking himself. "There was an old deaf wolf when I was younger, he spoke by signs, I learned with him. Of course, it is not common a deaf wolf but it exists."

The wolfman looked nostalgic and Laurent stifled a little snigger. Without his seriousness, the man was somewhat expressive. Laurent lowered his head and stared at the notebook for a moment before opening it. Some things were written on the first pages but Laurent was unable to decipher them, written in a language he did not understand. He turned the pages, thinking that he would come back to this later, the shape of the letters having piqued his curiosity, and reflected for a moment on what he wanted to write. Putting the pencil on the paper, he began to scribble words under the gaze of the man who watched him do, his neck slightly extended towards him to see what Laurent could write. Laurent wondered if he should make a list of all the things he wanted to ask before he told himself he'd better start with a simple one.

_What's your name ?_

"Damianos Akiela, but you can call me Damen.»

_There was a wolf in the woods, another one outside the pack that attacked us ... He attacked them._

“It was me.”

_Why ?_

"I heard screams in the forest. And you were on neutral ground, a territory reserved for humans. They should never have attacked you. "

_I don’t understand._

"How to explain ?” Damen inhaled on his cigarette and leaned on the back of his chair, staring blankly, thinking. "Here, the territory is divided into several parts. Centuries ago, a treaty was made between humans and wolves, each one had a part of the territory that the other should not exceed. A few years ago, this territory was again reformed. The wolfmen needed access to the city, so we just separated parts of the city and separated the forest. The wolves have their corner, the humans theirs. In neutral areas, we can sometimes mix but never attack. It is to avoid new wars."

_But yet, they attacked us in neutral territory..._

Damen looked back at the notebook as he heard Laurent write. "That's why I intervened. When I heard the screams, I thought something was wrong, so I went to see. And when I saw what was happening, I decided to help you. "

_Wouldn’t you have intervened otherwise?_

"No. It's part of the rules. "

_What do you mean ?_

"I don’t have the right to intervene in a neutral zone, even if a bear or other predators attack humans. The only condition that allows me is a wolf attack.” The man gave him an apologetic smile and shrugged.

Laurent watched him for a moment, not knowing what to say before continuing.

_Thank you for taking the risk of saving us... How did the others manage ?_

"I first found them. Jord knew that I wasn’t far from the neutral zone and made them run towards here. He knew that here you would be safe. He had already shot a wolf when I arrived, I took care of the other. Strangely, the pack concentrated on you. "

_What do you mean by you weren’t far from the neutral zone? And why did the pack concentrate on me? How did you find me?_

Damen twitched at it and bit his lip, narrowing his eyes. "Hmm... Your camp was not very far from the border of my territory. And I found you listening to the noises made by the pack chasing you. I then heard new cries which guided me to you.” He went silent then, staring at the forest.

Laurent waited a bit, his head bent to the side before reaching out and gently pulling on the sleeve of Damen's T-shirt to get his attention. He then patted the pencil on the notebook: _You did not answer one question..._

Damen laughs softly in a breath before tightening his jaw and fixing Laurent. The latter saw the chocolate color of the man's eyes in front of him melt slowly into a beautiful red color, vibrant and powerful. Laurent's breath caught in his throat and he moved back, begging in his head so that the man did not start to metamorphose so close to him under the influence of his emotion. Damen seemed to understand what was going on as he pulled back a bit too, before running a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. When he reopened them, they had returned to their usual chocolate color. Obviously, something was bothering the wolfman, enough to provoke a reaction of this type in him. Remaining slightly back and breathing slowly, tense, Laurent patted the notebook again.

Damen nodded and sighed. "I don’t know.” Laurent frowned, feeling that the man was mistaking him for an idiot. "No, really, I don’t know. I have a doubt but since I'm not sure and there are many things you don’t know about wolves, I don’t know how to explain it. "

_So explain to me what I don’t know..._

The man laughed a little more frankly, a lighter laugh. "It's going to be long and I think you've learned a lot of things for today ..." He gave him a sympathetic look, a smile on his face. "I think it's better to wait a bit before."

_Wolves usually hunt the weakest prey. Am I the weakest ?_ Could not help but ask Laurent.

"No. On the contrary, apart from Jord or Orlant who lived and grew up here, who learned to defend themselves against wild animals, I sincerely doubt that the others could have stood up to a pack as you did.” Damen frowned. "Or survive wounds like yours without having to go to a hospital urgently.” Laurent winced. "Then, generally, the wolves attack a human only when they are hungry and the human is wounded and on their territory. So... the situation is not very... common. "

_Why did not you bring me to a hospital? Is that a connection to the fact that they attacked me?_

"Currently, yes. I was afraid to make you leave my territory and they would attack you again, that you would be chased down the road. I preferred to bring someone trusted here. I didn’t want to take risks..."

And Laurent was grateful to him for that. Unconscious, he would have been unable to defend himself against an entire pack in this state. In addition to putting his friends in danger. He dared not imagine what would have happened if they had taken the risk of transporting him out of the house, where they would have ended. Laurent was a real attracting spot in his current state. He smelled blood and sweat. He suspected that the wolves would have been able to sniff him and track him down for miles around. His fingers tightened on the pencil as he felt a ball forming in his throat.

_Thank you_ , he wrote. He bit his lip as he looked at the landscape around him. The house was perfectly arranged and located, the meadow being clear and wide enough to see what could get out from the forest and have time to react accordingly. _Is it really safe, here?_ He asked in spite of himself.

"Yes, it's my territory and they will not venture there. Too risky for them.” Damen laughed. Laurent could see his teeth discover, an almost carnivorous smile appearing on his lips.

But another question irritated Laurent: _why are not you with other wolves?_

Damen's smile fell as fast as it had appeared and a sad expression passed over his face for a second. "Family stories and ... I prefer to stay alone.” He smirked and looked up at Laurent. "I don’t bother anyone and nobody annoys me."

Laurent could understand that, he too liked being alone. Nodding, he thought for a moment if he had another question. In fact, there were plenty of them but he could always ask them later. He simply writes " _Thank you_.” and closed the notebook before letting his head go against the back of the rocking-chair. He closed his eyes and let himself sway gently. He was tired and wanted to sleep. Indeed, as Damen had pointed it out, he had learned a lot in a short time and had too many violent emotions for the day. Rolling his shoulders slightly to relax, grimacing because of his wounded one, he fell asleep quickly without realizing it.

 

 

_***_

 

 

Walking was a real torture. Putting the foot down was a real torture. Standing up was a real torture. Washing was a real torture. Sleeping was a real torture. Holding cutlery with his broken arm was a real torture. To breathe was a real torture. In short, the slightest movement turned out to be very painful and even sleeping, sitting or lying down was a test.

Whenever Laurent had the misfortune to move his arm or shoulder a centimeter, or to put his foot on the ground to try to lean on it and walk, he could feel the pain waking up and spreading all the way violently along his injured limbs. He could even feel the holes that the fangs of the wolves had made in his shoulder and leg, deep enough to crack the bones. Every day he repeated to himself that he was lucky that the wolves had not thought of chewing him up and tearing those parts off his body that night. Indeed, he had been lucky. Extremely lucky. According to Damen and Jord, the last time there had been attacks of this style, the people had been found in pieces and gnawed to the bone on the soft parts.

This reason alone motivated Laurent not to complain about the pain, refraining from wincing whenever it was a little too strong, even for him. He was hobbling along, leaning desperately with his valid arm on any surface that could support his weight to try to advance as he could. Often, the other inhabitants of the house could see him dragging behind him, pulling by the wire connected to his arm, the infusion of painkillers that Paschal, the doctor who was also the trusted person of Damen and doctor for magical creatures in his lost hours, brought him from the nearest hospital secretly. Just as often, it was possible to hear the sneers of Nicaise in all the house, choking with laughter when seeing him do, rolling on his back and holding his stomach.

Most of the time, Laurent tried to remain calm even if he only dreamed of wandering around the house and its surroundings, to visit the place and discover its secrets. Regularly, when he was not sitting in the rocking-chair on the balcony reading books that Damen was kind enough to bring him to avoid being bored, he would sometimes discover new things in the house, walls that hid passages, strange hieroglyphs and drawings sculpted on the woods of the walls. He liked to observe them. Each representation represented a story and as his explorations progressed, Laurent learned the legends of Damen's people. Stories about wolves and how they ended up evolving like this. It was fascinating to him and finally, made the time pass faster.

Whenever he had the opportunity, he spent several hours in front of the same tapestry or engraving, reproducing it in pencil and charcoal on the little notebook that Damen had given him. Notebook that was quickly changed since Laurent was drawing in it so fast. He always took great care to reproduce the smallest details, often keeping himself from sticking the sheets of paper to the walls to be sure he would not forget anything.

During those hours, Laurent could not see anyone. Or at least, he made sure not to see anyone. He avoided his friends like the plague, Jord especially. As for Vannes, Aimeric and Nicaise, Laurent blamed himself for putting them in such a difficult situation. He knew that in a way it was not his fault, but he could not help. The three were stuck just like him inside the building, far from their original place of vacation, not taking advantage of it. Fortunately for them, the decor was lovely and Vannes was more than happy to be in the company of the wolfman she found visibly very to her liking.

One thing Laurent noticed and caught his attention was the fact that Damen was rarely in his own house. The man remained little in their company and spent most of his time away from home. Sometimes Laurent saw him running in his wolf form. And often, watching him do, the human had the impression that wolf ran as if he was finally free from all constraints or that he was trying to flee them. He could not hide it, Laurent envied him. He would have dreamed that he could run in the same way as the wolf, freeing himself from the weight of his worries, feeling nothing but the air around him and the burning of his muscles, the earth under his feet. He wondered just as often what it could do to be able to turn into a wolf. Since the night of the attack, he had perfectly integrated the fact that the process of transformation was painful, but once in this form, what did they feel? Laurent was incapable of imagining it.

He also felt that Damen was avoiding him. The only times he met the wolfman was when he brought him books or notebooks. Sometimes the human would ask him a question and Damen would answer him but their exchanges would stop at that time since they had talked on the balcony. Laurent felt that the man must surely feel deprived of his solitude and his intimacy, only tolerating their presence because he knew Jord. And he understood it. Laurent did not want to be there either. He wanted to go home or at least leave this place. But the wolfman always seemed pensive, annoyed, his brows often frowning and his eyes narrowed, as if he had something permanently obstructing his mind that he could not help thinking about it.

And Laurent wondered what it could be.

 

 

_***_

 

 

That day, Laurent was trying to walk, Nicaise watching him from a distance, well settled in one of the few sofas in the living room. Leaning on the large table in the dining room, Laurent tried to put one foot in front of the other, grimacing when he felt that his bones would break under his weight. He was out of breath and the effort cost him a lot. Still, he did not want to give up. Not being able to walk made him feel like he could not defend himself, making him helpless in front of the slightest threat and he could not stand it. Then, he would become crazy to stay locked inside the house, without being able to go further than the balcony, even with the help of his friends. He wanted to be able to fend for himself, as he had always done. He was not the type to relay.

Blowing like an ox, feeling sweat run down his temples and back, knowing very well that it was not due to the heat of the summer, Laurent tried to tilt his weight on his hitched ankle. After two weeks, he felt that the pain must be mostly bearable to be able to use this foot at least. Paschal had already shouted at him several times, telling him that his muscles and injured limbs needed time to heal, and that the more Laurent forced on them, the more time they would take to recover. But the human had nothing to do with it.

Taking his courage in both hands, he straightened up on his ankle and took a step forward before spreading his full length on the floor. He heard immediately the laughter of Nicaise resounding in the room. Grunting, clutching his jaw, he rolled onto his back. His chest heaved heavily and he lay there for a moment. Just the time to catch his breath, he promised himself, not assuming that he needed help from the teenager to get up, too proud to ask. He stared at the ceiling without knowing what else to do, arms outstretched, taking advantage of the coolness of the floor beneath him.

Footsteps sounded not far. Laurent counted to three before hearing the voices of Paschal and Jord rise in the air, scolding him. Soon the two men entered the field of his vision and Laurent looked at them, jaded. He made no gesture, did not say a word and let himself being risen above the ground before he found himself sitting on the nearest chair. Quickly, Paschal took off his shirt and looked at his shoulder while Jord took care of his legs, checking that Laurent, in his fall, had not reopened for the umpteenth time his wounds. He listened passively to the two men grunting and scolding him as they changed his bandages.

A sulky pout appeared on his lips as he stared at Nicaise who was openly making fun of him. The two men were manipulating him like a rag doll, moving his legs and shoulder, checking that everything was fine. He growled from time to time, stifling a cry of pain as they pulled a little too hard. He suppressed the urge to push them further and let them do. He also refrained from huffing, being irritated.

With the world rumbling through the house, Laurent understood why Damen stayed so little in. If anyone had invaded his home, he would not stay there for more than ten minutes. And again, ten minutes would be a test for him. Laurent could be patient, very patient, but when it came to supporting people, he quickly came to his limit.

Very light steps sounded in their turns, so light on the floor that one had to be attentive to hear them. Turning his head, Laurent saw Damen appear, frowning as usual, his head slightly bent to the side. The man must surely wonder what was happening in his home. Then Laurent noticed that he was holding something in one hand. Tipping his head a little, he tried to see what it was when he met Damen's gaze, who raised an eyebrow. A grin appeared on his lips and Laurent sulked again, turning his head for hiding his blush.

The man approached a little more and turned his back on Laurent, leaning forward to visibly unfold what he held in his hands, hiding the view with his mountain of muscles and buttocks that Laurent strove not to watch. He glanced at Nicaise, who could see everything from where he stood. He saw the teenager's face light up. Nicaise clapped his hands, holding back a little cry of excitement, and jumped over the sofa to join Damen. Hearing mechanics noises, Laurent wriggled a little, trying to see what the two were doing before he was pushed back into his seat unceremoniously by Paschal who ordered him not to move.

Laurent groaned again, glaring at Paschal who gave him a stern look as he lifted the younger man's arm up. Laurent felt the muscles and tendons in his shoulder pull a little but it was bearable. With a few stretches, he should no longer be trapped and could move normally enough. He couldn’t wait to be able to use his arm again, because once he was free of his bandages, if he paid enough attention to his ankle, he could use crutches. Paschal dropped his arm.

"Well, obviously, since you've focused more on exhausting your legs and you've forgotten your shoulder, it has healed faster.” The doctor announced. "Which means you'll be able to use it again.” Laurent restrained himself from raising his arms in the air as a sign of victory, and jumped on the spot with excitement. God, he couldn’t wait to get out of the house. Maybe eventually they could all leave and finally leave Damen alone. «With moderation!” Paschal added, watching Laurent. "It healed faster but is not completely healed. You don’t have to use it and support yourself more than necessary on it. The muscle is fragile, you need rehabilitation ... "At this sentence, Laurent felt the bad move coming. "I cannot give you crutches to walk.” He dropped his head and shoulders, sighing desperately. "I am sorry. It's not a small wound that you had and you heal very quickly for a human. But you’ll have to wait a little more."

Sighing again, Laurent moved his shoulder gently, slowly testing the limits. At least he had two out of four members who worked rather well. He put his hand on the muscle and felt it rolling under his fingers. He could feel the tension in it and massage it lightly. Writhing a little, he observed the scars that the fangs had left on his skin. They were not beautiful to see and clearly drew rows of teeth, red and still a little swollen. He grimaced, he did not particularly like to be so marked. He already had enough scars, if he could avoid adding some news to his beautiful collection, it suited him.

Laurent felt eyes on him, as if his skin was suddenly burning under them and he raised his head to Damen who was watching him, looking upset, glaring at his scars. Suddenly very conscious of the image he was returning, Laurent felt embarrassed and complexed, too self-conscious, much too much exposed to his taste. Catching his shirt that was not far from him on the table, he put it under the protests of Paschal who still wanted to cover the scars with light bandages. Laurent did not listen and lowered his head, biting his lip. He rubbed his arm unconsciously, uneasy. He grabbed his notebook, scribbled something quickly before tugging at Damen without looking up.

These are just a few scars, nothing serious. Stop fixing me like that. You look like a kicked puppy.

He heard Damen huff and then the wolfman cleared his throat to get his attention. Recalcitrant, Laurent raised his eyes anyway to see a slight smile appear on Damen’s lips. The man licked them slightly before opening his mouth.

"You cannot use crutches but..." He took a step away, finally allowing Laurent to see what he was hiding behind him. Finally seeing what it was, Laurent gasped and lifted his face completely to the man, his eyes going back and forth between the satisfied smile of the man and the object. "But you can still use a wheelchair."

"Damen!”  Paschal protested.

"I heard it is a good way to re-educate a shoulder without pushing it too hard.” Damen added, folding his arms over his chest and taking a proud posture.

Too excited to restrain himself back again, Laurent stretched out his arm to try to catch the wheelchair, leaning as much as he could in his chair. Damen stifled a chuckle and pushed it to him. Laurent immediately closed his fingers on one of the wheels and pulled it towards him. Once close enough, he looked for the wheel locks to stabilize the wheelchair the time he rises on it. He flipped the small lever, checked that the wheels did not move anymore and took hold of his arms to settle down without waiting for Paschal to allow it. The man groaned again, raising his arms in the air, desperate to see him as unkindly and less careful with his own body.

But Laurent did not care at all. A laugh of joy escaped his lips as soon as his ass touched the seat without him being able to hold it and he unlocked the chair. With a wave of his hand, he motioned for the others to push themselves away and began to roll across the room, happy as a child in front of their Christmas presents.

He walked several meters into the room, pushing the wheelchair with the strength of his arms, feeling his muscles tensing and stretching. He let out a sigh of wellbeing. He no longer paid attention to the others and focused on the feeling of being able to roam more or less freely without needing help, on the feeling of being able to use the muscles of his arms again. It was such a pleasant sensation that he felt that he would never be able to do without it.

"At least he will not use his legs for a moment.” He heard Paschal grumble. "It will give them time to heal. Properly."

"Yes, then it also means that you will be able to move him more easily and bring him home.” Damen added. "Jord's family home is made of white oak wood and is filled with protections that should keep the pack away until you return to Los Angeles."

Laurent turned to the others when he heard that. This day was not filled with only bad news finally. He was more than happy to hear that he was going to be able to find his apartment and his habits again. Apparently, he was not the only happy one. Damen seemed suddenly more relaxed, his shoulders and muscles on his back appearing much less tense.

"Actually ... there is a little problem ..."

There was silence in the room and everyone stared at Jord, who seemed very uncomfortable, swinging his weight from one foot to the other, arms folded in a defensive stance. His face was turned to the ground and Laurent could see the vein on his temple swell. Quickly approaching the table, Laurent grabbed his notebook before handing it to Jord.

_What problem ?  
_

"Well, it would seem, from what Orlant learned while he was researching, that the pack is after Laurent..." The man started.

"That's not new.” Remarked Nicaise.

"Except that they are ready to hunt him down to territories that are not theirs and to hire all the necessary people to be sure to get their hands on Laurent. They want him at all costs. "

Laurent scribbled again, feeling panic growing in his chest. _But why ?_

"That's exactly what we do not know.” Explained Jord. The air in the room was quickly weighting, the tension raising.

_What does it mean ?_ Laurent was very afraid of the answer. And, once again, he was not the only one. He could feel Damen tensing himself behind him, radiating with nervous and furious energy.

"It means I'm going to have to abuse a little more of your hospitality, Damen.” The man said, looking contrite.

"Sorry?” The wolfman asked, not quite understanding exactly where Jord was coming from.

"Aimeric, Nicaise, Aimeric and I are going back to the family home, we will be sheltered there.” He hesitated a moment before continuing. "But for Laurent, I'm going to ask you to keep him at home a little longer."

"What ?!” Exclaimed in the same voice Damen and Laurent, who seemed to have found his own in the act of emotion.

Jord took a step back, feeling the two men turn against him. "I cannot transport Laurent out of this house without risking his safety and those of the others.” He explained. "If I take him out of your territory, they will chase him to the point of having him. Whether in this city or Los Angeles. He will have nowhere to go."

"There must be a solution.” Laurent whispered, helpless.

"Yes, but we have to find it before we can get you out of here. And we must know why they want you so much.” Jord continued. "They are ready to make a deal with other packs and other species and are ready to cancel any peace agreement to have you! This situation is much more important than a simple attack of wolves."

"But how are you only aware of this?” Damen questioned, the muscles of his jaw contracting intermittently. He was angry but Laurent could not say precisely why. To tell the truth, he did not even dare to take a look at the man, too frightened.

"We investigated with Orlant, as I know very well that you did it on your side.” Jord said. "You never go so far away from your territory without some purpose. It's not for me that you can hide that, I've known you all my life. "

Laurent heard Damen growling and he froze. The wolfman was too close and Laurent was very afraid of what could happen if Jord tested his limits too much.

"That's also why I trust you enough to confide you Laurent.” He added, staring at Damen with a fearful eye. "I cannot rely on anyone but you to protect him."

"I have something to say about the situation perhaps !” Replied Laurent, annoyed that the man spoke of him as if he were a child without defenses.

"Not on that one, I'm sorry Laurent. The situation is beyond you. Beyond all of us. "

"So, what do we do ?” Asked Nicaise, as annoyed as the other people in the room.

Jord let his gaze wander between Laurent and Damen. "We leave Laurent there the time to find a solution. He must stay with Damianos. We do not have the choice. All the protections will not protect him against what he risks if a whole pack goes after him ... I'm sorry. "

Unconsciously, at exactly the same time, Damen and Laurent glanced up at each other and, for a moment that seemed infinity, they stayed like that, without exchanging a single word, the same expression on their faces. The nightmare was far from being over...

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD ! I thought that these two weeks would never end and that i wouldn't be able to write this chapter ! 
> 
> Hello guys ! How are you ?  
> I want to say thank you at all of you for all your kudos and amazing comments, you gave me life ! You don't even imagine how i felt when i saw so many and beautiful feedbacks. *I'm not crying, you are*  
> Thank you too for keeping reading this story and i really hope that this chapter pleases you as much as the first one !  
> And Thank You to the Wonderful Technicolor who helped me during the writing with her jokes, comments and feedbacks. Buddy, you rocks ! 
> 
> Like the last time, if you have questions, don't hesitate to ask ! I'll answer if it doesn't give spoilers :p 
> 
> Thank you very much again ! See you in the next chapter !
> 
> My tweeter : Hinotama_Nox


	3. You piss me off

_Unconsciously, at exactly the same time, Damen and Laurent glanced up at each other and, for a moment that seemed infinity, they stayed like that, without exchanging a single word, the same expression on their faces. The nightmare was far from being over..._

Laurent stared outside through the window, watching the sun go down and the night fall slowly. In the distance, he could see the different colors of the sky turn and melt into each other, creating an exquisite panel of red, purple and pink, and a magnificent landscape. With the evening coming, the whole house was plunged into darkness, bringing out the beautiful colors of the outside. It was the kind of painting that Laurent could have enjoyed and watched for hours if his heart was not so heavy and his stomach so tied with anxiety.

Damen had been off for several hours now, and there was no indication of his potential return. Laurent scanned the horizon, his eyes not leaving the edge of the forest, hoping to see something. A movement, a red glow, a change of light, a fuzzy silhouette, anything that could indicate to him that the wolf-man was near and well. Strangely, he did not like to know him so far, not to know where he was and especially not to know in which state he was.

While the wolfman was standing rigidly behind him, Laurent had felt him vibrate with a strange energy that, his fists clenched to the point where his knuckles turned white, his jaw contracted, he had tried somehow to repress and keep inside of him. Laurent, unable to move, frightened by the violence of such a reaction, had wondered how Damen had done to hold so much time before exploding. The wolfman was once again radiating something that the human was unable to describe and which affected Laurent. He had seen Damen's face distort in front of his eyes, becoming animal, the man's eyes then taking their blood-red hue.

Jord, frightened, had taken several steps backward, staring at Damen, just like Nicaise and Paschal, wide-eyed. Laurent could still hear Nicaise say in a short breath that they could not decently abandon him in the house, even if he was in the company of the wolfman to protect him, and leave without him without turning around. He remembered how the teenager had lowered his voice and whispered, painfully, that it was their faults if he found himself in this situation, that they chose to take him here and that they had to take responsibility for it. The young boy, despite himself, was not so much a child anymore and knew how to be mature when the time came.

Jord insisted that they had no choice, begging Damen to accept, that it was safer for everyone in the house. He had then pressed on the delicate points, making the sensitive strings play. Jord had dared to talk about Damen knowing the pack that had attacked them, what they were capable of, and what the alpha was willing to do when he wanted something, which he would stop at nothing.

Laurent had seen Damen's whole face contract, his veins on his temples and his throat swelling and beating violently against his tense skin. He remembered the acrid taste that had spread in his mouth when the wolfman began to growl, like a warning, telling Jord to pay close attention to the next words he intended to use. But the man had not really taken it into account and added: "You are best placed to know it, having lived it."

Laurent had felt like a wave of emotions foreign to him hit him violently. Within a second, the wolf-man had gone through all the colors of the universe before turning pale once more. Laurent had looked at his face, watching him lose all his colors before becoming cold, and a creak had sounded all over the room.

It was at that moment that a cry was heard in the room, causing Damen to lose control and concentration. Aimeric and Vannes had landed in the middle of the discussion, if it was only possible to call it that, without expecting to find everyone in such a state of tension, and the young woman could not help screaming at the sight of Damen's appearance, which was slowly but surely beginning to change.

Damen had then rushed out of the house, leaving Laurent to face all that alone. He had nudged the human on his way without realizing it, throwing him halfway against the living room table and the young man had watched him open the front door on the fly and leave, helpless, shivering at the distinctive sound crunchy bones

Footsteps squeaking the floor pulled him out from his thoughts and, turning his head, Laurent saw Jord slowly approaching him. The man stopped when he saw that the young man had noticed his presence and observed him. Jord looked upset and very uncomfortable. Laurent knew that his condition was due to the discussion they had earlier in the day, and he was angry at leaving the youngest. If it had depended only on him, he would never have had even the presentiment that he had to leave Laurent behind. But it was not just his own life at stake. They all took a risk when they came to this place and stayed there for so long, and Jord did not want to continue to involve others in something that far exceeded them. Nicaise was too young, Vannes too upset and Aimeric, although he seemed to manage things in a much more relaxed way than the others, remained in danger. The man, responsible for them, had to make a choice: to protect his lover as well as the others or run the risk that something would happen to them if they stayed close to Laurent. And Laurent understood the choice Jord had made. If he had not been so disturbed by this whole situation, struggling between the fact that he did not want to be left here alone in the presence of a stranger and the fact that his friends had to move to be in security, he would have told them himself to go away. And this for a long time.

But Laurent could not help but blame the man. After all that had happened to him, he felt like he was alone against the world again. Jord had been the only person present for him during the hard times, the only person believing him and doing everything to get him out of his troubles. And now, he too was leaving. Not really, just in a way. Laurent knew that Jord would investigate the situation on his side, call him regularly to get news and do everything in his power to help. But the fact that Jord would leave physically, even if it were not the case psychologically, gave him the impression of receiving a stab in the stomach. Laurent felt abandoned. There was no one left to protect him or to make him feel safe.

The sensation was as disturbing as the idea, and Laurent tensed in spite of himself. He turned his head to the window again, watching the outside once more. He wanted Jord to act like removing a bandage from a wound, that is, as soon as possible. Laurent wanted Jord and the others to leave, do not wait, that he could finally find himself in the situation he feared instead of waiting, heart to the edge of his lips, for it to happen. The man placed himself a little closer to him and Laurent tried to ignore him, biting his lip to distract himself.

"I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, putting a hand on Laurent's shoulder, who forced himself not to push it away. "You know what I think about it... and you know I don't have a choice." Laurent made no movement and Jord sighed. "Did he come home? Have you seen anything?" The youngest made a barely perceptible head movement. "Our things are ready." Jord continued. "We'll wait until he gets home before leaving. I would like to see some things with him before. I hope he will not be too late..."

Laurent shrugged, not really knowing what to think. The man removed his hand from his shoulder and lowered his head to observe him for a moment.

"You know... None of us want to leave you here." He explained. "Nicaise is furious and I dread the fact that he will eventually hide somewhere when we have to leave." Laurent snorted at that. It was a gesture worthy of Nicaise. "Or that when we're at the cottage, he tries to come back here." That, too, was like him a lot. "You will not be alone. There will be Damen, and I'll call you, I'll come to see you, and Paschal will be there too." The man thought for a moment before adding, "He's not a bad person." Laurent frowned. "I've known him since I was little, he already saved my life. He doesn't talk much, and sometimes you don't know what's going on in his head, but he's good, fair, and loyal. You can count on him."

Laurent remained silent, having absolutely no strength to emit the slightest sound. He did not doubt that Damen would be there to help him if he needed to, but he knew how much it annoyed the wolf. Laurent was a burden. He felt like a burden. For the wolfman and his own friends. His chest tightened and he stopped himself from grimacing. Jord apologized again and left, leaving Laurent alone again with his thoughts, a gloomy look on his face as he continued to watch for Damen's arrival.

 

**_***_ **

 

Seven days. Seven long and tedious days that Damen was gone. Seven days that no one had heard from him. Seven days that there was not the slightest clue about when he was planning to return. And so, seven days that Laurent was alone in the house, wandering in the empty and silent building like a ghost haunts a mansion.

Jord, after a long argument with Aimeric, had made the decision not to wait for the wolfman's return. Laurent had watched him put their things in the Range Rover and shout at everyone from the garden to get in the car. As they had guessed, Nicaise had hidden, refusing categorically to leave Laurent. It had delayed their departure at night but not canceled it, Jord having finally found him after several hours, hidden behind the false wall of a closet. He had lifted him from the ground and carried him to the vehicle while calling the others, the youngest one insulting him with all the names going through his head, hitting the air in a desperate attempt to get the man to release him. He had bitten, scratched, kicked where he could but Jord held it. Laurent had to recognize one thing, Nicaise was worse than a wild animal when it came to defending his point of view and not to let it go. He had watched them leave, the teenager sticking to the window of the car and screaming as if led to the slaughterhouse, Aimeric and Vannes holding and pulling him back so he would not open the door on the way.

It had broken Laurent's heart. Since he had met the youngest, they had not really left each other. Nicaise had lived things with him and Laurent had done everything in his power to get him out of trouble in which they were both sunk to the neck. He had, and even paid the price, preferred to put Nicaise before him and, with the help of Jord, had managed to get the boy away.

His wheels making the floor creak, Laurent strolled through the house. Being in this place alone was strange. He loved being alone but only when he was at home. In an unfamiliar place, he tended to be wary of the slightest sound, the slightest creak or scratch that could be. Alas for him, the building was not very young and was made of wood that moved and cracked as if each board that constituted it was trying to continue to grow.

Sometimes Paschal passed by. If he could afford it, he would go back and forth between the house and the hospital two or three times a day. When he could not free himself anymore, he would only spend the evening. By observing the silence, and those in a short time, Laurent had learned to recognize the sound of the engine of Paschal's car and the sound of his footsteps. Listening to him, he was always careful that it was the step of the man he was hearing.

Paschal always examined the house and secured the surroundings, putting out some grigris here and there to repel anyone who was not Damen from the estate, before taking care of Laurent. He brought him meals and checked his bandages. Now that the young man was not using his legs to move, they healed strangely faster. It was less painful when he leaned on it and Paschal always made sure to apply some special concoctions that accelerated the healing. Seven days was enough to fix his legs and he figured that if he had listened to the doctor earlier, maybe he would not be stuck in a chair. Even if he would never admit it out loud.

Going a little further through the living room, his gaze fell on the open books on the coffee table near the sofas. He had spent these seven days busing himself as he could, alternating between reading, reproducing the frescoes on the walls and watching for the wolf man's return. A few hours after the departure of Damen, he had set foot, or rather the wheels, for the first time in the library. He had not expected to find such a large room, bright and spacious, in which he could move easily. He had thought he would find a simple little place with a few shelves containing a few books that he would have quickly gone around. But no, the room was huge, with rows of books that went up to the ceiling, all so provided in books that some were stacked on the floor, not finding their place in the shelves. There was even a higher floor to which it was possible to access with the aid of a spiral ladder, giving on new shelves as full as those of the level below. The room even contained a large table made in dark wood with chairs and further, near the windows, very comfortable leather chairs.

His eyes lightened when he saw such a room. He had gone through the lower shelves, quickly looking at the titles and contents of the books, running his fingers over the covers, which were mostly made of leathers and tied with gold threads. The library was arranged in sections, ranging from fantastic stories to much more serious books on psychological topics. Laurent had even unearthed a Napoleon Code dating from 1800 written in old French. Some books were almost new, others older, worn and damaged in some places, as if they had been used hundreds of times. He was amazed.

Laurent had still wondered what could hold the books upstairs. From what he could see, from the top of his wheelchair, all were leather-bound covers and looked much older than the bottom sections. Centuries like older. He had promised himself that when his legs were healed, he would climb up there to discover their secrets. In the meantime, he had begun to read those of accessible libraries, many at once. He thought he might not have the time to read them all. Or that Damen would allow him to return when he was finally released from his chair and the critical situation in which he was. The man-wolf, given his reaction earlier in the day, would certainly not allow him to return to his home, even if everything ended well and they separated in good term.

Alas, all the books in the library, all the frescoes and engravings on the walls of the house, and the hours spent observing the landscape through the window, even when he only slept a few hours, were not enough for him to really occupy and to free his mind. He was bored and wanted to set foot outside. He wanted to feel the grass under his toes and the earth sinking under his weight as he walked. He wanted to feel the breeze on his face and be able to roam as he pleased, which he could not do with the chair and the fact that no one could help him down the stairs. And above all, he wanted Damen to go home.

When he slept, Laurent's mind would loop through the events that had happened in the forest. He saw the scenes in the slightest detail behind his closed eyelids. He felt fangs back into his flesh, the fear and pain he had felt. He felt his skin tearing under the force of the jaws, his bones cracking. He felt the sweat running down his back or the tongue of the man licking his neck. He woke each time with a start, covered with cold sweat, feeling dirty, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest. And the only thing that calmed him at these times was the memory of the two bloody hue shining eyes that saved him that night.

Laurent sighed, exasperated. He glanced out the window, twisting his neck slightly, trying to see, once again, the smallest movement that would indicate anything to him. He had to admit, he was a little upset and hurt. He felt like an unbearable intruder. If in general, it would not have bothered him, here he felt uncomfortable with such a violent reaction. The wolf-man did not want his presence in the house so much? And Laurent had trouble understanding.

Damen's behavior was strange and too ambivalent for Laurent to really get around it. Once before, the wolf-man was trying to make conversation with him, going so far as to bring him a tea and a notebook to succeed in communicating. The next time he scarcely spoke to him. The time before, he brought him books for the young man to take care of while his members were healing. The next time he ignored or fled to other parts of the house and managed not to be in his presence if they were to be alone. The time before, he watched him act and try to wander around the house, almost throwing himself to help him when Laurent threatened to fall to the ground. The next time, while the young man looked for his eyes, the wolf did not give him a single look. The time before, he took the trouble to bring him a wheelchair so that Laurent could move freely, and the young man had seen his smile and his eyes, as delighted as his own. The next time he lost control and fled the house for seven consecutive days when he learned that Laurent was about to stay with him a bit more.

It was disconcerting and annoying, in addition to being somewhat irritating and offensive. Laurent did not know on which wheel to dance when it came to apprehending and understanding Damen. He had, despite his own misgivings, tried to speak with the wolf-man who had saved him and welcomed him to his home, whereas he usually would not have talked to him, even in writing, or even a glance. But there was something different about this man who attracted his attention and aroused his curiosity. Was it that nostalgic and severe look that Damen was wearing almost constantly on his face? Was it the fact that when he genuinely smiled, his face lit up, erasing the impression that he was an old man who had lived thousands of lives in a young adult's body, rejuvenating him considerably? Was it that supernatural side that made him a being apart and so extraordinary? Was he the wolf inside him, as if he was subconsciously trying to heal his trauma and fear by taming Damen and getting used to his presence? Was it the fact that the Wolf Man was radiating something that Laurent was unable to explain? He did not have a clue. And that annoyed him.

Sighing again and clutching his jaw, Laurent decided. The estate was protected by the trinkets that Paschal had dumped everywhere, nothing would happen to him, and he needed to get some fresh air. To breathe real air coming from outside, not just passing through the windows when he opened to ventilate the room in which he was. Too bad if he had to crawl or lean on his legs to get down some stupid steps. Too bad if he had to sit on them, take them down like a child, dragging his chair behind him.

Laurent moved his chair to the back door of the house which overlooked the river that crossed the meadow who turned into a small lake lower in the valley not far from the building. The terrace was larger, he could maneuver more efficiently and the land on this side of the house was slightly higher, which made that there were fewer steps to go down. Crossing the living room to the kitchen, he stopped on his way to grab a butcher's knife in one of the drawers. In legends, wolves were sensitive to silver. And even if it did not work, he would always have something more useful than a simple stone, which had done wonders when he had needed it, to defend himself.

He put the knife on his lap and then rolled to the kitchen window. Looking up, he saw one of Paschal's grigris dangling happily at one of the handles. Laurent bit his lip for a second, thinking, before grabbing the trinket and slipping it into one of his pockets. He then opened the window, forcing a little, the wooden bearing not sliding so well, and rolled to the outside. The astonishingly cool breeze for such a hot, humid summer weather whipped his face straight and Laurent took a deep breath, swelling his lungs with fresh air. He sighed, this time to be well, and closed his eyes for a moment.

He relaxed in his chair, taking advantage of the wind, and no longer felt claustrophobic by staying locked in the cottage. A slight smile appeared on his lips. He opened his eyes and looked around the terrace looking for a way to get off. And as he approached the railing around the patio slowly, his eyes fell on a different place of the stairs but strangely, seemed to allow to go down into the meadow. Advancing a little further, he frowned before his mouth fell open in surprise. When he first checked, what he was seeing now was not there. He would have remembered it and gone out much faster.

And yet in front of him was a ramp descending gently to the mainland. Advancing cautiously and holding his wheels with his hands so that the chair does not run away, Laurent could go down to the meadow without going through the stairs. Watching it, he wondered who could have built that. He had not heard any hammer noises when his friends were still there, and since Damen's departure, the house had been plunged into silence. If the slightest sound of this style had sounded, Laurent would have known immediately. So who? When? How?

Biting his lip again, he stepped forward slowly and, testing the strength of the ramp, began to descend, paying attention to what he was doing. Quickly he was down, his wheels touching the ground, the grass grazing and tickling his bare feet. The sensation was exhilarating. He removed his feet from the holds and laid them on the terrain. Stirring his toes, digging the dirt, he felt the earth move under his skin. He smiled again. He looked at his feet, watching them act as if they were not connected to his body, before raising his head and looking at the ramp.

Jord was resourceful and knew how to do a lot of things, but Laurent doubted that he would have allowed himself openly to break one of the railings on the terrace to build a ramp at someone else's house. Especially, with which materials? Since he had not left the cottage once. Laurent doubted that it was Orlant who had given himself this trouble, knowing him only a little. Vannes would have been too scared to break a fingernail, except that she could not hold a hammer. Nicaise could have given a helping hand but Laurent would have heard about it because the teenager would not have stopped complaining about any splinters or aches he would have had. Aimeric was not the type to tinker with. Paschal was not there long enough each time he passed. So there was only one person left on the board. Damen.

Laurent wanted to believe that the wolf, as motivated as he was to allow the youngest to leave, had built this. The question was why did he really give himself this pain and when did he take the time to do it? It was a big investment, he could very well have let the youngest just wander into the house and let his friends do when he wanted to go outside. Yet no, he had built a ramp and Laurent had not noticed anything, heard nothing. This kind of work should have made noise so when? Certainly not in the middle of the night even though the young man could have seen him wander a few times through the window of his room. There, too, he would have heard it.

Unconsciously, Laurent began to worry again for Damen. Where was the wolf? What was he doing? Was he going home before Laurent left - if he managed to leave? Was he well? Was he safe? Laurent hoped that his nerve crisis and loss of control did not cause him to get hurt and get stuck in a corner of the forest. He hoped that if he ever saw the man again, he would be in a good enough condition so that Laurent could get angry after him and that all he had on his heart would not go away like from a  blow of a magic wand if the wolf returned in poor condition. He preferred to be resentful and upset after the man than to be anxious for him.

Feeling his stomach tighten and his throat knot, Laurent grunted to chase the unpleasant sensations that were born in him. Turning his gaze away from the railing, he stepped into the meadow. He glanced regularly over his shoulder. He was happy to be able to go out in the open air, but in the hollow of his chest, he felt the fear of moving a little too far from the building for the first time after several weeks. Since the aggression in the forest. He did not know how far Paschal had filed protections. He did not know how far the territory of Damen was exactly. He did not know how far he would be safe. He did not go too far so, staying within a reasonable distance for a first getaway. He could always start again later.

He pushed his chair to the river, not far from the house. It was huge and, further down, formed the famous little lake. He approached slowly, paying attention to the path he took, dodging the small rocks that could eventually block his wheels and make him fall. Around the river, the grass disappeared and formed a beach of small pebbles, descending gently to the water. Observing the ground more than the landscape, he advanced to where the water and the earth met.

Smiling, he leaned forward and started pulling up his pants on his calves before plunging his toes into the river. The water was cold and extremely refreshing but it was nice, not contrasting much with the heat of the air. A thrill of pleasure ran up his spine and his smile widened a little more. Paschal had removed his hitch, which allowed him to dive into the water as he pleased, but he was careful not to wet the bandage with his other leg. He still covered his calf and much of his thigh but his ankle was uncovered, which allowed him a little room for maneuver.

He remained there a long time enjoying the good weather and the fresh air. He lost the notion of time, his eyes closed, his feet in the water. Around him, there was only the lapping of the river, the song of the birds, the music of the wind and the sound of the trees, all forming a marvelous melody. He could feel the sun on his skin, warming it gently. He knew he would not be able to stay out of bed for long if he did not want to finish crimson, but he took advantage of the limited time he was given.

Until a new sound could be heard. Footsteps, different from those of Paschal. Opening his eyes, he turned his head to the source of the noises to discover that they were those of a gigantic wolf. Damen. But Laurent had no time to feel joy at recognizing him and to see that the wolf did not seem to be hurt, walking easily, or had time to feel anger at seeing him appear at his side as if nothing was after seven days to worry. It was a raw and deafening terror, which made him dizzy and cut his breath, which invaded Laurent.

He tried to retreat, pushing his feet in panic. He tried to roll back the chair to put some distance between him and the wolf who was too near. Far too near, and still moving on slowly. Laurent forced on his arms, pushing the chair to bend to his will, but he only managed to block the wheels in the rocks. He continued to pressure, and the chair cocked before tipping to one side.

Laurent fell with the chair and his body rolled into the water, wetting his clothes. Raising his head quickly, controlled by his instincts, the young man looked for the knife he had taken with him with his eyes, having heard the sound it had made while sliding from the chair and bumping against the rocks. Seeing him in the river, he plunged his hand into the water without hesitation, catching it at once, before turning to the wolf brandishing it. But Laurent heard sounds of crackling and when his eyes were on the being in front of him, he saw Damen instead of the beast.

The man was squatting, his hands resting on the floor, his face turned toward Laurent, his eyes wide and worried. And above all, he was naked. Laurent could see his tanned and dirty skin, streaks of earth adorning his large and swollen muscles. The sun lit up his skin, highlighting every curve that each muscle formed, the bumps and hollows. His hair, shining, went in all directions, strangely framing his face in such a tousled mane. His eyes were illuminated, glowing with their blood-red color. Laurent, facing this vision, felt his breath get stuck in his throat and his belly to tie. He gasped.

He saw the wolfman's lips move, stretching slightly to the sides, and the young man realized that Damen was trying to restrain himself from laughing. In fact, the image that Laurent was returning was ridiculous. He had an air of bewilderment clearly displayed on his face, his clothes stuck to his skin and his half-wet hair was a funny hairstyle. He had pushed them away from his face with a simple movement of his head, making his hair stick to a part of it, making him look like a hairy teenager coming out of a pool.

A little laugh crossed Damen's lips and Laurent scowled. Slamming the knife to the ground, he straightened up and turned to his chair, which he arranged up. He heard the wolfman's footsteps approaching, and when he raised his head, he saw Damen dominate him with all his height. Laurent took great care not to lower his eyes to the family jewels staying happily between the muscular legs of Damen, who were just up to his face. His arms were stretched toward Laurent, as if he had intended to help him before the young man caught him. After observing each other for a few seconds, the wolf-man ends up leaning towards the youngest. Wanting to grab Laurent's arm who frowned to lift him, the young man pushed him away before he had time to touch him with a slap on the hand, cleared his wheels and got up on his chair.

Damen took a few steps back, pout on his lips. His face had closed instantly. He had returned his serious look. Laurent looked at him when suddenly, seeing the man standing in front of him, all he had felt during those seven days resurfaced. All anxiety, nervousness, annoyance. He kept a cold, impassive face, staring at him almost haughtily and disdainfully, and began to move his chair forward, past Damen as if he did not exist. The man was fine. He was fine. He was not injured, was healthy, just dirty and probably stinking of wild animals and sweat.

Laurent was already several meters away from him when the man began to follow him. "Laurent ..." he called, in a low voice. The human could hear the hesitation, and the tone was desolate, the man evidently seeking his words to justify himself to the youngest.

The young man did not bother to turn around, just stopped for a second, his face slightly to one side. "Shut up." He found the strength to whisper before he started walking again without giving the wolfman a glance behind him.

 

**_***_ **

 

Laurent had rushed to his room, furious and cursing silently after Damen. How did he dare to appear in front of him in such a way, with his heart-shaped mouth, like a flower open to the sun, after seven fucking days? Closing the door behind him, the young man let a frustrated sound escape him. He had made sure to stay as calm as possible in front of the wolf, preferring cold anger to violent explosions. For him, it was a much more cruel punishment. But now, his emotions needed to come out.

He did not know if it was the fact of having pushed his chair on the ramp or that he was unleashed after seeing him appear in this way but Laurent was out of breath. He could not believe it, he did not believe it. After seven days, the wolf had arrived as if nothing had happened, happily wagging his tail and even making fun of Laurent when he was frightened. How did he want the young man not to panic when seeing such a gigantic animal just a few meters from him without he has not made the slightest sound to prevent him? He could not deny it, Laurent was upset. Very upset. And he unconsciously congratulated himself for not having let everything go like a hysteric in the nose of the wolf and for having kept an exemplary calm. Cold, impassive and a perfectly illegible and neutral expression, as when playing poker.

Grumbling again, he rolled over to the adjoining bathroom and grabbed two towels and the bag where Paschal had put bandages and other things that might have been needed by Laurent. He undressed on the spot, throwing his wet clothes into the bathtub. He would take care of it later. He wrapped himself tightly in one of the towels, straightening up on his legs as he covered his waist around, wincing slightly, then returned to the room with the handbag and the other towel on his lap. At the height of the bed, he left his wheelchair and threw himself halfway on the bed, falling on his back, arms outstretched. He bounced, the towel loosening slightly around his waist, revealing a hip, but he paid no attention.

Laurent stared at the ceiling, frowning and looking tired. He was upset. He was annoyed to find himself constantly in complicated situations where he needed the help of others to get by or in which he had no idea what to do and how to act. It was exhausting. And once again, when he finally thought he was done with problem situations, he found himself plunged into one of them right up to his neck. He felt that even if he had saved him, Damen had not been much help. Of course, he had brought him a wheelchair, but he had fled in the minutes that followed. Yes, he had talked to him once, but he had tried, with great application, to avoid him and ignore him afterward.

In himself, the young man had nothing against the wolf. He did not wish him extreme hatred, did not feel an irrepressible and devouring need for revenge. Damen had never done anything but save his life. But Laurent would have liked to discuss more with the man, to ask him questions to learn more about him and his people. The wolf did not look hostile, did not look like a brute ready to hurt him - even if Laurent was really scared every time he saw him in this form - and did not look fundamentally bad. On the contrary.

Laurent did not understand why the man was running away from him so much, why he had been so upset by the idea that Laurent was going to stay a little longer that he had felt the need to go away for seven long days. He did not understand why the man had that sad, nostalgic look, or that stern expression on his face. Laurent did not understand why every time the wolf's gaze landed on him, it seemed filled with regret and bitterness with a little something mysterious and magical. He was hiding something, something that was torturing him internally, enough to make him lose control. Nor did Laurent understand why every time Damen's gaze landed on him, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he missed his breath.

Sighing, the young man rolled on his side before climbing a little more on the bed. Sitting down, he leaned against the wall at the top of the bed and spread his legs in front of him. He brought Paschal's satchel back, opened it to get what he needed, and then began to pull the wet bandages off his leg. The bands and gauze clung unpleasantly to his skin and Laurent could not help but start to pester after Damen and his dirty behavior and character.

Laurent wanted to leave this place. He was so eager to find his apartment with all his belongings and all his habits. He wanted to go back to his studies, not worrying about anything else, not about a bloodthirsty pack ready to skin him at the slightest opportunity. He was tired of being stuck with someone who did not speak to him much. If he preferred silence when he was surrounded by people he thought were less interesting, when he was in the presence of someone he knew endowed with an intelligence that he considered at his height, Laurent was a plaintiff of discussions and discoveries. And he suspected that the wolf man was that kind of person. No one could be stupid like his feet without any subject of conversation when they had such a library hidden in their house. The young man had bothered to check, even the newest books had all been read at least once.

He pushed back a few strands of his hair that fell in front of his face, putting them behind his ear before going back to work. It was not the first time that he changed bandages, but those of Paschal were a real pain to undo. To secure his leg, refusing to put a cast, the man had put several layers of bandages. The day he had opened his eyes to find out that he was in this place and that he was alive, Laurent could see a tight bandage, leaving no inch of flesh out. But now, the layers formed crosses, leaving pieces of skin breathing but tight and superimposed to prevent Laurent from bending the leg. Wolves had the idea of chewing it after all.

These different layers went up and down several times along Laurent's leg, making the bandage compact and hard. These layers also made the process of removing the bandage extremely long, the fact that it was wet not helping. Laurent puffed out his cheeks and blew hard to get out of his frustration, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck to relieve the tension accumulated in his places.

Uncontrollably, too upset after the wolf, he began to insult him in his mind. He also groaned in a low voice after the bandages that began to exhaust his patience. Frowning, a jaded pout on his lips, he glared at the bandages. He grabbed the bag and searched inside before finally getting his hands on some scissors. Wielding them with victory, he slid the bandages between the two blades and began cutting. At least trying to cut. The bandages were hard and stiff and the scissors too small and not strong enough. Stubborn, Laurent continued to force, twisting the blades several times and scratching the skin, before giving up.

Annoyed, he threw them across the room and crossed his arms over his chest, blowing in frustration. He insulted everything around him and the world that went with it, like the scissors, the bandages and Damen. He was extremely pleased to find all the insults that could correspond to the man. Uncrossing his arms, he raged at his bandages, trying to tear them with his hands before letting his arms fall. He leaned against the wall and his head fell backward. He began to mumble in a low voice.

 "Shitty situation!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"You are all big shit!"

"Motherfuckers!"

"Pack of my balls!"

"Strip of sons of whores!"

He knew he behaved like a child, but he had an excuse, he had the right to be one. After all, he was only 20 years old. If he had not lived all that he had lived, he would not even consider himself a true adult. And immediately, he was tired, angry, frustrated, upset, and wanted to behave like a capricious child who was kicking because he did not get what he wanted. He was alone, he had the right to let down his serious and cold mask. He raised his head and his eyes fell sadly on the bandage.

"You big crap shit! Asshole! Stinking dog! It's taken for the mysterious big bad wolf but in the meantime, it flies away at the slightest annoyance. Big bad wolf, my ass! Just a puppy!" He whispered, leaning forward as he carefully went back to undoing the bandages. Even if he wanted to remove them quickly, he knew it would be useless and getting angry on his leg would not help. Rolling the tapes under his fingers while mumbling, he tried as best he could to get out what he had on his heart. Never in public he would allow himself such behavior, but alone in his room, he let himself go a little.

Stuck in his head and concentrated on his task, he did not hear the footsteps in the corridor making the floor creak, nor the door opening slowly. He did not see either the figure leaning against the door frame, a grieved smile on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. The silhouette listened for a moment, not making the slightest noise before escaping a slight laugh.

Laurent raised his head suddenly with a start, stopping to unroll the bandage. His blue eyes rested on Damen's chocolate eyes. The man did not look angry, he just wore a sorry smile on his face. Laurent closed his mouth, clenched his teeth, and glared at him before returning to what he was doing. He did not really appreciate the way the wolf man had to surprise him in his most vulnerable moments. He did not like either that Damen made him feel agitated or that kind of emotions that he only reserved for Nicaise generally. Or the kind of sensations that took his breath away every time he saw him.

He felt the man come closer and Laurent tried not to look up at him. The bed sagged under his weight as Damen sat next to the younger man's legs and he moved them to the side to get away from the wolf man. He did not want to be so close, he did not want such closeness between them. Not when he was so upset because of him and he wanted to stay that way. This man was dangerous for Laurent, he could not keep his walls raised when the man was near him.

 "What you just said..." Damen began in a whisper that caused Laurent to look up at him, "I think I deserve it..."

The wolf man looked up at Laurent in turn, gazing into the human eye. Laurent slowly exhaled through his nose. The man's eyes narrowed slightly in the corners and a soft smile appeared on his lips. But the young man said nothing, bit his tongue to refrain from saying something and looked back at the bandages without moving his hands.

Seeing that he preferred to stay silent, Damen approached a little more the legs of the youngest and put his hand on the bandages. Laurent jumped and tried to move away again but the grip of the man prevented him to do. He glared at him but Damen ignored it. Slowly, he brought Laurent's leg back to him and laid it on his thigh. He leaned a little forward and his hands joined those of Laurent who brought them to him quickly by releasing the bandages.

Damen grabbed it and began to undo the bandages. More quickly and with better dexterity than Laurent. The youngest looked at him, his eyes wandering between the concentrated face of the man and his hands that fluttered around Laurent's leg without really touching him. The contact was light, like a breath. Laurent was quickly hypnotized by the movements that Damen's fingers made, wrapping the bands on themselves while removing them from the leg of the youngest. They moved with delicacy but quickly.

It was the wolfman's voice that pulled him out of his trance and Laurent had to flutter his eyelids to regain a semblance of concentration. "I'm sorry to be gone like this..." Damen said. "I don't really know what it took from me. I think I was upset."

Laurent snorted at that but said nothing. He was afraid that if he asked the questions that tapped him, he would not like the answers. He was already wondering if it would be better to leave and let Damen alone. To let him return to his solitary life without anyone to disturb him. Laurent hesitated enough already, he did not want to hear that indeed, he was not welcome despite the sometimes welcoming behavior of the wolf. He did not want to hear it, especially not from the man's mouth.

He remained silent, continuing to watch him, his eyes still waving between Damen's face and his hands. As he was fast, the bandage, to Laurent's astonishment, was quickly withdrawn. Faster than if the young man had taken care of it himself. Damen put the wet bandages on the floor, and removed the bandages that covered the wounds and bites. Frowning, he turned Laurent's leg slightly between his hands, watching the wounds carefully. These were closed but kept a pink color. Gently, he pressed the scars, testing their flexibility, checking that they would not open again at the slightest shock. Fortunately for Laurent, it was not painful. In fact, it was even nice. His muscles were tense and contracted to stay in the same sore position, and the slight massage Damen gave them allowed him to relax.

Laurent sighed softly. He hesitated between removing his leg because the gesture, the way the man caressed his skin, seemed almost intimate, and leave it there to enjoy this semblance of human contact and affection that he had not been realized that he was missing terribly. Damen closed his eyes and applied a little more pressure with his fingers on the muscles, rolling them under the skin to feel the bone. His eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted slightly to one side, very slowly, as if he listened to something. Something that Laurent felt under his skin, in his bones, like a slight vibration. Damen pressed a little bit more, without it becoming painful, and opened his eyes again, staring at the leg, a strange look on his face.

The wolf man turned his gaze to Laurent who stiffened. He reached out to the youngest but said nothing, silently waiting for something. Laurent did not understand immediately and looked around to see what the man wanted. His eyes fell on the little bag and he grabbed it before handing it to Damen. The wolf man grabbed it and rummaged inside. He pulled out new bandages, clean and dry, and a lotion that he emptied into his hand. He then applied it on the wounds and began to surround the leg with bandages. Calmly. Silently.

Without a word, he continued his task but did not rewrite the bandage as he was originally. He only covered certain wounds, those that were still fragile, and left the rest in the open air. Once again, his hands did not seem to touch Laurent's skin. They were like a light caress, a simple breath. And once more, Laurent could not turn his eyes away from the hands that moved like the air, finding himself hypnotized by the man's movements.

Quickly, too quickly, it was over and Damen put Laurent's leg back on the mattress next to him. The young man made no move not to betray the strange state in which he was and just watched the wolf man get up from the bed, pick up the bandages wet and head for the door. He almost wanted to tell him to stay, not to leave him but Laurent remembered why, initially, he was upset after Damen. Even if immediately, he was unable to feel the slightest hint of anger after him.

The man stopped on the doorstep and turned slightly to Laurent. "You should get dressed." He began, pointing at Laurent's outfit, which looked down at his knees. He had completely forgotten that he was wearing only a towel and that the towel had largely been defeated from around his waist. Now it only partially covered his body, hiding only the interesting parts. Discreetly, not to show he was surprised again, he slowly folded the other side of the towel on his discovered hip. A teasing smile appeared on Damen's lips, but he did not think about it and continued. "Your bones have solidified, I think you can walk with a little practice. I'm surprised you healed so fast."

Laurent licked his lips, thinking for a moment. "I think it's the kind of concoction that Paschal gave me that made it heal faster."

" Surely." Damen said shaking his head, even if his eyes showed that he was thinking of something else. He turned around again and left the room, leaving Laurent alone.

 

**_***_ **

 

The living room was silent. Laurent was sitting by a bow window on one of the pillow-covered benches, reading an umpteenth book he had found in the heart of the library. His legs pulled toward him allowed him to have some support to put down the thick book of Grimm's tales in which he was plunged. The blue cover was adorned with little-gilded characters staged as if to illustrate the tales that the book told, reflecting the sun whenever Laurent moved.

The air in the room was cool. The building may have been old, but it was built well enough to keep cool in summer and heat in winter. It was also well built so that each part was sunny depending on the position of the sun. Generally, the living room remained bright all day long, the large windows adorning the living room letting in light. In the evening, they overlooked a beautiful sunset.

Laurent had found his favorite place near one of these windows, after the armchairs of the library. It was not too hot, it had all the light he could need and the bench was comfortable. He could spend hours there. During the seven days he had been waiting for Damen's return, Laurent had sat there for a long time, the window giving a perfect view of the meadow and the edge of the forest.

But immediately, this bench seemed uncomfortable to him and the book did not entertain him. Looking up, Laurent looked around the room before sighing. His eyes went back to the book he held in his hands and he closed it firmly, placing it next to him. He tilted his legs off the bench and set his feet on the floor. It was no longer painful, he could lean on it again. His balance was precarious when he walked but according to Paschal, it would be fine. He just had to train for an hour a day. "No more," said the man, "I'm afraid the bones are not yet solidified enough." His ankle was fully healed, there was only the other leg left and he could regain his full autonomy, even if he was used to using his chair.

In fact, he had even begun to appreciate his chair. He had decorated it with drawings and writings. He had reproduced in pencil the frescoes he saw every day on the walls. His wheelchair was now covered with drawings of wolves, moons, muscular men and women metamorphosing. He had never had a real passion for drawing, but since he had set foot in this house, Laurent had exhausted pencils and notebooks.

He did not know where he got this frenzy to draw everything he saw, every detail with extreme precision. Maybe it was a way to keep control of a situation that escaped him. Perhaps he was trying to understand, to learn more, since it was the only way he had. Nobody told him anything. Laurent asked questions constantly, even silently. He had notebooks full of scribbled questions that remained unanswered. It was frustrating.

Paschal always changed the subject or turned his attention to other things, which were often just as fascinating. The man was telling him about potions, plants and trees, how the shamans worked, and his story. Sometimes he would take him outside and show him birds, flowers, grasses or other plants, pebbles, that could help Laurent. It was like a little training in shaman secrets. In a way, it bridged the gap in Laurent's knowledge but it did not shed light on what he was so eager to know.

He had had Jord on the phone a few times, by video conference, Nicaise often screaming behind him, forcing their friend to move around the room and push the teenager away so he could talk more quietly. Laurent was generally silent and listened. He still had trouble speaking. He wrote if he had something to say, it was easier. But Jord was not very helpful either when it came to learning more for Laurent. Their investigation was not progressing, something was wrong. There was always something to get in their way. The only evidence was that the pack was ready to do anything to get their hands on the youngest but no one was able to say why or how. Clues like witnesses disappeared, people remained silent and were afraid to interfere. It was not a conventional investigation after all and they were alone even though Jord and Orlant had grown up here.

But there was one thing, something obvious and Laurent was unable to put his finger on it, once more. He was constantly turning the problem around, but the elements were missing. He lacked culture, he lacked clues. He could not make the connection and nothing in his life linked him to this story. From what he knew. Everything was a question of knowing and everyone around him kept leaving him in the unknown.

Sometimes, Nicaise hid in his room and called Laurent, told him what he was learning, spying on the older ones. The teenager had always been good at it. When he and Laurent found themselves in galleys, the youngest had helped the older man by playing spies. He was discreet and agile. His small size allowed him to sneak around without being seen. He had a gift to browse and hear what was not to be heard. He could enlighten Laurent on some things but here again it was not enough. There was something deeper and he had to continue digging.

As for Damen, he was silent too. Even though he was present, he spoke little. When he spoke to Laurent, even after his apology in the room, it was only to talk about the rain and the weather, to ask him if he was hungry or if he needed something. The human saw that the wolf was still avoiding him and that he seemed tortured. And Laurent was constantly wondering what. When his eyes fell on the youngest, they seemed to hide a kind of pain or guilt.

Laurent had asked him questions. He had used several strategies. He had used brutality, rushing into the pile and asking questions in the most straightforward manner he knew. He had used the gentle way, asking his questions so that the wolf man would talk to him. But nothing had worked. Damen said nothing, lowering his eyes, frowning, nibbling his lip nervously, as if he were also thinking on his side without having any real answers.

The human had been pissed off several times after him, losing patience, and trying to hurt him with his words. He had tried to get a reaction from him, but Damen was always running away. He did not leave the house anymore, but he changed rooms or went out for a walk while remaining within sight. Laurent saw that he was bothered by something. His movements were sometimes hesitant, as if the man was restraining himself from doing something. As if he was afraid to regret it.

Laurent rubbed his face with one hand and then leaned on his arms as he stared at the floor. He thought for a moment, wondering what he had really learned that could help him. His eyes were on a fresco drawn on the bench. The illustrations on the walls had been the greatest help he had received so far even though he would have liked some explanations. He had searched the library for books that could tell the stories of the wolves. From the people of Damen. But nothing. At least, nothing within reach of his hands. Many times his eyes had felt on the books upstairs, the ones he could not reach for the moment. He had figured that when his leg went better, he would climb up the ladder and go dig up there. He had hesitated to do so in his current state, since he could walk relatively, but thought it was best to wait.

The floor creaked and, looking up, he saw Damen in the distance, his shadow projecting onto one of the walls of the corridor. They both remained silent for a moment, staring at each other. Then Laurent pulled his chair towards him and pulled himself up to go towards the man. He was going to have to confront him once again. He was tired of remaining in silence, that the wolf man would flee him, and of knowing nothing. He was tired of feeling like an intruder. And if he got no answer, never mind, he would go elsewhere, he would go away. He went to approach the man when he turned on his heel. He must have read on Laurent's face what the youngest was about to do.

"Damen!" Laurent called, rolling behind him, his eyes on his back. But the man did not answer. "Damen!" He repeated. The man said nothing and kept walking towards the kitchen. Laurent accelerated, pushed more on his arms, and grabbed Damen's, forcing him to turn around. The wolf man looked down at him, frowning. "Stop running away," said Laurent. "Stop making me run after you constantly!" Damen's mouth twisted into a grimace. "I understand that you don't want me to be here! I understand. But ignoring me will not help things to get better."

"I don't ignore you." Damen said, sighing.

"So what is it? What's your problem?" Laurent asked. "You don't talk to me or just stupid things. You approach me when it suits you or when it weighs on you. You don't answer any of my questions. But I need to know! I can not stay without knowing, it won't help us. I can't leave until I know more and you are the only one who can answer me!"

"Maybe it's because I don't know more than you do." Replied the wolf.

"You definitely know more than me." Breathed the human. "I'm sure you know something that could show me the way, put me on the track, who could help me understand. And when I ask you about wolves, either, you don't answer." He continued. "And there, I know that you know more than me because it would be very strange that you don't know how you work. "

The man lowered his eyes and, as usual, bit his lip. He seemed to think. Laurent waited, with an ounce of hope for once, telling himself that the man might agree to answer him. But after a while, Damen just turned back again and said nothing. He started walking again and went into the kitchen.

Laurent's jaw tightened as anger began to boil inside him. "Why is everything so complicated with you ?!" He asked, raising his voice. "Why do I have to constantly beg you to get the slightest answer? Do you think I like this situation? I'm tired of repeating the same things! I don't want to stay here and your silence is a nightmare!" Laurent pushed his hair away from his face and rolled to the kitchen. He looked at Damen who was sitting around the island in the middle of the kitchen, his head in his hands. "Damen! Look at me when I talk to you!"

The man sighed and raised his head, crossing his hands in front of his mouth. His eyes rested on Laurent and the human had the impression that the wolf pierced holes through him.

"I'm fed up... I'm tired of this situation and you don't help!" Laurent said, at the end of his nerves. "You don't fix anything. You only make things worse with your silence and your behavior. What? Am I so unbearable? Is my presence so unbearable to you that you need to run away from me constantly? That you can not even stand to be in the same room as me and talk to me for more than an hour?"

"It's not that..." Damen replied.

"So what is it ?!" Continued the youngest. " What's this ?! What is the problem ?!"

"It is complicated…"

"That's enough."

Laurent stood up, leaning against the wall to keep his balance and turned around. He left his chair there, it would only slow him down. He left the kitchen and went to his room. He did not even bother to close the door behind him and knelt in front of the bed. Leaned down, he slid his arm under it and groped the ground. His fingers came into contact with a travel bag that he pulled toward him. He straightened up and opened it on the bed. He then went to the closet and grabbed his clothes by piles. Going back and forth between the wardrobe and his bed, he threw his things into the bag.

He looked around and began to put together the notebooks and the rest of his stuff that he threw in his bag too. He did not have much, and most of what Nicaise had bothered to take had stayed in Jord's family cottage. Once that was done, he closed the bag and threw it on his shoulder before staggering out of the room.

He knew he was going to get tired quickly and that he would surely be an easy prey once he came out of Damen's territory but he could not take it anymore. He could not stand to stay there anymore. It was useless. He'd manage to get to Jord's cottage, pick up the rest of his belongings, and go back to his hometown. His eyes went to a keychain not far from the front door and he grabbed it. He remembered that there was an old jeep outside the house. He would borrow it to go home and once he was safe in his apartment, he would manage to return it to his owner.

Laurent opened the door and left the building. He descended the stairs quickly, stumbling a few times. He ignored his heavy steps. He was determined to leave, doesn't matter the time it would take. Arriving at the height of the vehicle, he unlocked the driver's side door. He threw his bag into the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel. He slipped the keys into the ignition and with a dry gesture, started the vehicle.

The engine vibrated with force, making the jeep vibrate with him. Passing first, he moved the vehicle forward and began to pick up some speed. The vehicle jumped a few times when a stone slipped under the wheels and Laurent drove towards the dirt road nearby. But having arrived in the middle of the field, through the open window, he heard Damen's voice calling him. He ignored him and continued on his way, not even bothering to look in the rearview mirror.

It was a mistake because suddenly, he found the wolf man in front of the vehicle. Damen had caught up with and passed him in a few strides. Laurent did not have time to brake. He saw the man's eyes light up and with one hand, he stopped the vehicle by crushing the hood. Laurent felt the shock all over his body. His breath cut off and his chest bumped against the seatbelt. His head went forward and barely brushed the steering wheel before coming back violently and banging against the seat.

His vision faded and, for a few seconds, he did not know where he was. His head was spinning and he slowly put a hand on the back of his head. A hump was already forming. He blinked several times, panting to catch his breath. He saw Damen's cloudy figure move and the door open. The man leaned in the car, Laurent felt the seatbelt come off and Damen pulled him out of the vehicle. He put him on the ground and Laurent rubbed his eyes before raising his head to the man who crouched at his height.

"But what are you doing ?!" Raged the wolf grabbing Laurent's face to check that the young man was fine.

"Piss off !" Replied Laurent, pushing him away. He tried to get up but Damen stopped him.

"You can't leave!" He said. "It's dangerous! The only thing you'll do is to get yourself killed!"

"What's the good of staying? You don't want me here, and you made it clear to me! You don't want to talk to me, you prefer to ignore me! I'll manage on my own." Growled the young man. "Now, push yourself!"

"You're pissing me off."

Before he had time to add anything, Laurent found himself raised above the ground. Like a sack of potatoes, Damen threw him over his shoulder and headed for the house. The young man then began to do the only thing he could do: he hit the man. He slammed his clenched fists on all the places he could reach, screaming at him to put him back on the ground. But Damen did not, he did not even seem to feel the blows Laurent was giving him. He brought him back inside the house. Going into the living room, he threw the young man unceremoniously into one of the armchairs and blocked him with his arms.

"You want to know? Very well!" Damen started, his eyes red, his face distorted by a cold anger that froze Laurent on the spot. The young man did not dare to open his mouth. He knew what it was like when the man lost his temper. "If you put a foot outside of my territory, you will be tracked and no matter where you go, it will not discourage them. You will be chased to the end of the world, they will not give up because for them, you are precious. You have something in you that makes them want you. What _exactly_ is it? For what _exactly_? I have no idea and it gives them a leg up on me. But what I do know is that when they get their hands on you, they will try to transform you. It's going to be a torture, it's going to be extremely painful. You will feel your skin tear, millimeter by millimeter. You will feel your bones break, one by one. And the worst part of all this is that it's not even sure it'll work. You have three possibilities: you die because your body rejects the transformation, you live and your body accepts the transformation or, third option, and I don't wish it to you, you live but your body doesn't accept the transformation. This last option means that your body will break a first time, to try to make you become a wolf, then a second time to make you become a human again. And if that's what it's going to be, they'll keep you with them, and every full moon, they'll bite you, again and again, until you die or the transformation works. And each time, it will be much more painful, because your body becomes immune to the transformation and so it breaks without ever getting over it. If you don't succeed, if you don't become a wolf, you will die in agony. If you survive, you'll just go crazy."

Laurent was silent, paralyzed. Every word that came out of Damen's mouth was like a slap in the face. He could not move, push him away, or make any sound. He could only feel the fear in his throat and the sharp taste in his mouth. He felt Damen vibrate with rage, radiate. And the worst part is that he did not understand. He could not understand. Why him?

"Do you want to leave? Well, go ahead, pull yourself! But you will never be safe!" Damen continued, as if to deliver the coup de grace. "And I wish you to die if they ever get their hands on you. A tip, if it happens, commit suicide. Because you will suffer and wish to die. If you die the day they try to transform you, they will eat you, simply and purely. If you survive the transformation and you become a wolf, in my opinion, seeing your smell, you will become an omega, it will mean that you will be considered inferior and they will use you as a breeding stock. You will be mistreated, you will be left in a corner, you will eat last, the belly full of their offspring until you give birth and they can start again. They will take you, rape you, with each of your heat, each at their turns. And it will be your life until you finally die because that's how this pack works!"

Damen spat his last words with such disgust that Laurent felt like vomiting and crying. The man gave an impulse, the shoulders of the youngest moving back, and straightened up to his full height. His face still distorted in a grimace of anger and nauseated, he stepped back before starting to walk into the room while biting his lip. Laurent watched him, petrified, before swallowing. Panting, he slowly passed a trembling hand across his face.

"But what are you talking about..." he murmured, especially for himself. But Damen heard it and turned to him. Too much information, not enough explanation. Then, why him? Why would anyone want to do something like this to him? Who was so monstrous to do that to someone? What did he do to deserve that? He heard Damen sigh and, looking up at him, saw that the man had calmed down and looked at him with sadness.

"You don't understand, huh?" He said softly as he stepped toward the youngest who cowered back into his chair. The man crouched at his height. "You wonder what's all this shit and why you, right?" Laurent, still panting, nodded. "That's why no one told you..."

Damen got up and left the room. Laurent watched him do it, without a word, absolutely unable to make the slightest movement. His whole body was tense and he could hardly breathe. Suddenly, he was afraid that breathing could draw attention to him. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. He curled up in a ball in the chair and tried to make himself the smallest, the most discreet possible. Then Damen came back into the room.

Laurent raised his head slightly, his face still hidden in his arms. The man had his arms full of books, all bigger the ones than the others, and the youngest recognized their covers. It was the books of the upper section of the library. Laurent straightened up, suddenly curious. Damen approached the big table in the living room and threw them on it. Leaning on one arm, he began to leaf through some of them as if searching for something. His face focused, frowning, and when he found what he was looking for, he pushed the book he held before moving to another and start over.

Once all the books were open on the table, he turned his head towards Laurent, glancing at him, then straightened up and approached him. Without a word, he seized again the young man who this time said nothing, before returning to the table and put him on a chair. Still in silence, he walked around the table and sat on a chair in front of Laurent. The human swallowed again and looked down at the books.

"If nobody explained anything to you," Damen began, leaning over the table. He folded his arms in front of him. "It's because the more you know, the more you're in danger. That's why I didn't want to tell you anything. That's why I couldn't tell you anything. I promised Jord to keep you out of it all." He explained, lowering his eyes to the books. "You were already traumatized because of what happened in the forest, no one wanted to add pressure on your back." He grabbed one of the books and pushed it towards Laurent who took it in his hands. "But Jord didn't warn me that you'd be so upset not to know. Obviously, from what I could judge and read in your notes, you draw your strength from your knowledge. Just by observing some drawings, you could understand a lot about wolves, but that's not enough. Personally, I wanted to tell you everything from the start. I didn't want to ignore you but it was the only way to escape your questions that were becoming more and more precise." Damen pointed to an illustration of the book Laurent was holding. "All you want to know is in these books."

Laurent frowned, lost. "But what are we going to do next?"

Damen got up again and headed for one of the living room libraries. He crouched on the floor and pulled a slat off the floor to catch something. He returned to Laurent and handed him a cloth. The human caught it slowly. Something was inside. Putting it on the book he was holding, he unpacked the fabric and saw a beautiful dagger appear. Taking it in his hands, he looked up at Damen who sat down again.

"This dagger has been in my family for years," Damen explained. "Some wolves are not able to transform themselves, even when they are born and grew up in these kinds of families. This dagger was made by shamans long ago, hundreds of years ago, to allow these humans to defend themselves against wolves. I can't touch it. "

" Why?" Laurent asked, observing the dagger. It was beautiful, engraved with runes and a ruby adorned the handle made of white wood.

"It is made of white oak and silver. The runes are spells and it was soaked in a concoction of aconite kills wolf." Damen said with a slight smile. "In other words, I touch it, I burn. "

"What do you mean by when you touch it? Not like the vampires under the sun?" The human said, not sure of what to think.

"No, not like vampires under the sun." Damen reached out and touched the pommel of the dagger. A sound of water being swung on a burning stove was heard and Damen hastily withdrew his hand. He shook it and then showed it to Laurent, who opened his eyes wide. The wolf's finger had taken a violet hue. But quickly, the wound seemed to heal before disappearing completely.

Laurent bit his lip. " So, what do we do?"

"You learn. You learn everything you can about wolves, how they work, their strengths and weaknesses. And when your leg gets better, I'll teach you how to defend yourself." Damen said. "I want you to keep this dagger always on you, never part with it. As long as you're in the house, you're safe, but when you put a foot outside, I want you to have it on you." The man folded his arms on his chest. "You will learn how to fight and we will find a solution to get you out of there."

Laurent smiled, suddenly lighter. He turned the dagger between his fingers. "Thank you ..." he whispered.

"You're welcome. I promise, maybe it will take time, but everything will go better. I'll get you out of this situation." Damen said. He leaned over the table again and pointed at the book. " _Now, learn._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello ! How are you ?
> 
> So it is exactly 02:22 am in my country and I'm super exhausted. But i needed to finish this !  
> I'm currently in the hospital and I think that it's enought for you to understand why I took so much time to update. Make you wait pissed me off like never but my health told me to go fuck myself ! 
> 
> There are parts of this chapter that made me doubt a lot and i kept rewriting it. But i can't do better, not in this state so i hope it will please you. 
> 
> Please, tell me what you think about it. Normally i wouldn't ask for feedbacks but right now, I really need it. So please, take 5 minutes for telling me if it pleases you. 
> 
> Thanks again to my Little Bunny (TechnicolorWriting) who helped me for this chapter ! 
> 
> Thanks for having take the time to read my story. 
> 
> See you in the next chapter !
> 
>  
> 
> My twitter : Hinotama_Nox


	4. Let me in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THAT'S THE REAL CHAPTER THIS TIME !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THAT PLEASE :
> 
> FIRST : thank you for everybody who supported me and sent me messages on my little post. You are great and it's very sweet of you. 
> 
> SECOND : THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME REFERENCES ABOUT CHILD ABUSE, PAST RAPE, MISTREATMENT, MURDERINGS. Please be aware of it before reading.

 

_"You're welcome. I promise, maybe it will take time, but everything will go better. I'll get you out of this situation." Damen said. He leaned over the table again and pointed at the book. "Now, learn.”_

 

_The year had never been really defined, the date had never been really proved. The only thing that allowed to guess and to give an approximation about the period was the barbarian attack that led to the First Change. But the word "barbarian" was used for any type of description. This word typified anyone from a foreign country who grew up with a foreign culture. Anyone that could be seen as different from one's own civilization and that would be seen as a "barbarian"._

_The first wolfman was not one at the very beginning. He was a man, a human, of all that was mostly normal, loved by his whom he protected with all the strength that his muscles and his soul could bring him. But on a moonlit night, his village was attacked by those he called "barbarians." After this murderous attack on his village, the clan leader, covered with the blood of those he loved and who had died in his arms, crawled to the sacred lake where he and his clan used to pray the gods and goddesses who protected them. Hands in the water, the blood spreading to its surface, he begged the Lady Moon to help him to protect his people. He begged her to give him a solution, ready to sell his soul if that could satisfy her._

_Having witnessed the screams of agony that had echoed through the night and seeing how determined the man was to protect his, the Lady Moon gave him her help. She had executed herself, asking nothing in return, but she had not explained what this solution might imply. The Lady Moon had just told the man to go home, to take care of his loved ones and at the next full moon, his wish would be granted._

_On the appointed day, the man guided those who were still alive to the lake and invited them to enter the water. When the new moon rose, he saw, to his amazement, his people metamorphose into wolves. Immense, majestic and powerful beasts. The Lady Moon, in her great goodness, had offered them the power to change their forms, as in the legends of their ancestors where men and wolves were one and the same people._

_But the clan leader, euphoric of this new power, did not use it to protect, as he had promised the Lady Moon. He used it to take revenge on those who had hurt him. In a bloodbath that darkened the meadows and the sky, the man turned the situation around, taking advantage of his new abilities to rise to the heads of all the other clans. The men followed him without a fight, laying down their weapons without hesitation in front of the promise to join his clan. He transformed new wolves, enlarging his pack._

_The day before an attack on humans who had dared to wreak his clan and his people when they were still humans themselves, a new full moon rose. And with great despair, the man watched his men and women turn with pain and blood into wolves, writhing on the ground and screaming from agony to the moon as they did it two moons ago. Their bones broke, their skins tore open to reveal the fur, their faces deformed in appalling howls._

_The wolf-man went back to see the Lady Moon, begging her to explain herself, pleading her to stop hurting his people. But Lady Moon looked at him with disdain, disappointed by the man's behavior against other humans. She explained to him, in an icy voice, that she had offered him this gift to protect and not to kill or destroy. The man, with this new power, should have protected the world, not subjugate it. She condemned him and his people to suffer as much as they had made others suffer at each transformation._

_The clan leader begged her again and again, but the Lady Moon no longer listened to him. In the early morning, some were no longer able to shift back in a human form or to transform into a wolf, preferring to stay in one form or the other rather than endure martyrdom._

_Several new moons like several new generations passed. The clan dispersed all over the planet, no longer wanting to remember the cursed day their ancestors had wanted to rule the world. The story of this night was told at each birthday of that fateful day to remind the new wolves of what it took to disappoint the Lady Moon._

_Until the day when a young wolf, a direct descendant of the first wolfman, made the trip to the lake. He walked in the snow and the cold, braved storms and heat. Falling in love with a human, he went to see the Lady Moon and asked her to lift the curse. He wanted to be able to protect her from her peers who tyrannized and made her suffer, the pain of transformation preventing him from taking one form or another quickly enough to defend her. The man knew that in his human form he would never be strong and fast enough if anything happened to her._

_But the Lady Moon rejected his request, still disillusioned and deceived by the ancestor of the young wolf. He accepted the decision of the Lady Moon, including her motives. He thanked her for having kindly listened to his request and then left without a word. He made the trip in the opposite direction and returned to watch over the woman he loved so much._

_The years passed again. A day, the woman whom the young wolf loved got assaulted by her peers. The wolf did not have time to transform completely but threw himself between her and her attackers, protecting her by sacrificing his own life. As his blood spilled over the ground around him, he watched the woman he loved cry while watching him die, begging for someone to help him. Lady Moon heard her complaints._

_Descending from the sky in a halo of light, Lady Moon approached the young wolf who showed her no hostility. He greeted her with open arms, accepting his fate, happy to die for having defended the woman he loved more than his own life. Lady Moon sat near the body of the young wolf and watched him smile at her. He thanked her for the gift she had given to his ancestors, the same gift which, though it was a curse, remained a gift from heaven that he could use to protect._

_Moved by so much love and kindness, Lady Moon healed the wounds of the young wolf. Under the eyes of the human who began to thank her fervently, the blood returned to the body of the young man, who recovered to life little by little. Then, to congratulate him and bless him for protecting a human, the Lady Moon gave him a present. She offered him the ability to change shape at will, without pain and blood. Then she raised the curse for the new generations. However, she left certain conditions._

_Only new wolves who would be worthy of this gift would receive the gift of metamorphosing painlessly. The True Wolves were born._

 

*******

 

Days passed. Every morning Laurent got up in a hurry, barely taking the time to swallow anything or shot water on his face, and immediately went into the living-room or the library to return to study. He was fascinated, amazed and passionate about everything he read and what Damen would teach him. He had been able to put words and receive explanations concerning the frescoes he had spent days deciphering. And he had finally been able to find out what the old books in the upper shelves of the library contained, Damen having gone to get them for him. And things, they contained.

More than once, Damen had to pull Laurent out of the living room or the library, forcing him to swallow something or maintain some hygiene. More than once, he had found the young man asleep, his head resting on the books he was reading, drool on the corner of his lips. And more than once he had to carry him to his bed. At times, Laurent was clinging on to him, clutching his shirt in his sleep and grumbling when Damen sat down to loosen up his fingers tightly wrapped on the fabric. The wolfman had left in Laurent's bed several t-shirts.

Whenever Laurent did not understand something, Damen was happy to show or explain it to him. He showed him several possible transformations, never changing completely into a wolf so as not to frighten the younger. He let him observe and touch his fangs, first hesitantly and then with fascination, Laurent running his fingers over the long fangs, even opening the mouth of Damen a bit too big to see the bottom, making yelp the wolfman. He showed him his claws and the morphology of his legs, Laurent running the tips of his fingers under them and massaging the pads. He even managed to get purring from Damen.

The day Damen showed his tail and ears to Laurent was the day that Nicaise chose to come to the house unexpectedly. The teenager had managed to run away during the night and had walked all the way from memory to the cottage. He had found them in a strange position, Laurent sat on Damen's back who was laying on his stomach on the ground with his pants slightly down, the wolf's tail between the younger man's hands as he ran his fingers through the long hairs.

Nicaise uttered a shout and asked for explanations, pulling Laurent by the arms to keep him away from the wolfman who was only very happy to finally being able to get up. He and the young man had fought. Laurent wanted to catch and touch his tail and his ears, with the enchantment of a child who discovered his environment, while Damen could not help but try to flee, those parts of his body being far too sensitive and too little used to to be fiddled. The teenager had glared to Damen the rest of the day until Jord finally arrived, his hair disheveled and his face worried.

Laurent learned that Damen was a True Wolf. And one of the few of his pack to have had the ability to transform himself as a child. The wolfman showed pictures to the young man of when he was a pup, all black fur and shining red eyes, still uncomfortable on his little legs. Laurent smiled foolishly in front of the photos, a small smile but that said a lot about the fact that he refrained himself from cooing in front of the puppy. But he did not stop laughing when Damen showed him pictures of when he was a teenager under his wolf form. He was absolutely ridiculous in Laurent's opinion, perched on his long legs, his skinny body and his big head that seemed too heavy for his neck.

Damen taught a lot of things to him. With the power of a True Wolf came the ability to take many forms. Damen had four forms. Apart from the classical forms, human and wolf, Damen could also bring out only some of his attributes. He could take the form of a wolf standing on two fur-covered human legs or he could take a more human form where only his eyes, fangs, claws, ears and tail appeared. In this form, he was also taller and more robust. Laurent winced when he saw the wolf with human arms and legs, thinking that he looked much more threatening in this form.

Laurent also observed the difference between a True Wolf and a wolf that could be called a classic. The bones broke but immediately reformed, the fur did not appear from rags of skin but seemed to come out of the skin itself. When Damen was transforming, it was done much smoother, much faster, much fluider than the transformation he had seen in the woods. The sounds of cracking bones were horrifying for Laurent, but the fact that it was done in a more natural way allowed the young man to go over his disgust.

A True Wolf was bigger, more powerful and faster than a classic wolf. It was also the case in their human form. While his leg was finishing to heal, Laurent had watched, sitting comfortably on one of the porch sofas, Damen lifting whole trees and using them as a weight to train. He had also watched him build a course in the meadow next to the house. Course he reserved for Laurent for when his leg would be better.

Laurent did not have an athlete's body. He had never learned to fight or defend himself even though he had always dreamed of it. His past had never allowed him to do it. He had an androgynous and malleable body, made to adapt to situations in which he had been immersed from an early age. Even though his posture was stiff, as stiff as his way of moving, Laurent had a body capable of twisting and staying in positions that would be untenable for ordinary mortals.

He often wondered what Damen was going to book him for training. He had promised that he would teach him how to fight but Laurent did not know what to expect. The training ground he had built seemed more suited to someone with the wolf man's build, not Laurent's. But the wolf seemed determined to help him so the young man did not balk and was ready to accept each of the methods of the man.

 

***

 

_The Second Change came a few years later. The rumor of a new species spread to the four corners of the world, accompanying the passage of wolves on new lands. This rumor did not please and attracted the curiosity of other magical creatures. Harpies, Vampires, Witches, Shape Shifters, and other Legendary Creatures who roamed and peopled the world secretly._

_These creatures, little pleased, sought a way to eradicate what they saw as a new threat. The wolves might have lived in silence, little noticed and remaining in the pack, respecting the territories that were granted to them, the fact that they remain magical creatures having received a gift from the gods and that their strengths, as well as their weaknesses, were little known was uncomfortable for other species._

_Some decided to gang up on the wolves, allying and plotting against them to test their powers. The unknown was scary and the wolves were unknown. And at the moment they thought the most opportune, they attacked the wolves who certainly did not expect this aggression, living in peace and harmony with the species they were living alongside. They did not know how to defend themselves against species they did not know themselves._

_When the other species realized that the wolves were powerful but pacifist, it was already too late. Peace agreements were concluded, but the wolves were almost all decimated. Those who remained met to find a solution. Transforming humans to repopulate packs was not a safe solution, far too dangerous and endangering human lives, not ensuring safe transformation. It was also forbidden to turn a human against their will, and to make a human aware of the existence of wolves was just as dangerous as transformation._

_There was also the problem that wolves were not very fertile. Transmitting the gene by mating with a human was rare and giving birth to new wolves was extremely difficult. The First Change had completely changed the biology of wolfmen. Fertility cycles had become different and irregular in women, the transformation during these cycles made pregnancy impossible as it was impossible to transform when pregnancy was in progress. The metabolism of the wolf interfered with the one of the_ human _._

_One day, the wolfmen heard from a shaman about an ancient goddess who might be able to help them. Warned by the events of the past, the wolves hesitated. They did not want to launch a new curse on their people that would only bring them suffering. But, they realized that they had no other solution._

_In the heart of the forest, the packs gathered together. The wolves made an altar surrounded by a bonfire that they lit on the night of the winter solstice, blazing the sky and warming the earth. That night, they prayed and danced around the fire in honor of this goddess who could help them. But at the end of the ritual, nothing happened._

_A month passed before the first changes appeared in the wolves. Some of their organs began to change, others began to grow. Their smells changed, becoming more intense and sharper, like their behavior. Both men and women were affected by this new disease, which first manifested itself in intense cramps before the other changes could be noticed. But not all were reached. Some wolves saw no change appear in themselves._

_The wolves thought at first that they had offended the Goddess, not honoring her glory and power as they should have done and that to punish them she had cast a new curse on them. They sought to be forgiven, praying and supplicating without getting any answer. Until the day when those reached were overwhelmed by their wolves instincts who took over and pushed them to mate, regardless of the sex of their partners._

_When they could regain the upper hand and real consciousness, no longer feeling the primal need to mate and bond, the wolves realized that it was not a curse but a gift from the goddess. She had given them the ability to reproduce by making wolf biology no longer interfering with the one of_ human _. This was the First Mating Cycle._

_In the years that followed, the wolves were able to observe the consequences of this gift. New wolves were born and the packs repopulated. Like women, some men were now able to carry and give birth to children. The goddess, in her great goodness, had offered them a second kind of gender, separated into three categories, which allowed the wolves to double their chances of conceiving puppies. She also offered them the opportunity to bond with a partner, binding two souls to make one. And every year, at the same time, those who had undergone the physical changes that allowed them to adapt to their new gender were plagued by a primal need to mate with a partner. This need was described as heat for those who had become omegas, and ruts for those who had become alphas. Only betas, those who had not undergone physical changes, were not subject to this need._

 

_*** Disk that derails *** _

 

"Wait, what ?" Said Laurent, frowning and wrinkled his nose, leaning over the book as if to make sure he had just read what he thought he had just read. He re-read the sentence several times before raising his head towards Damen. "Is that a joke ?"

"What ?" The wolfman barely lifted the eyes from his own book.

"Heats and ruts? Seriously?" Continued the young man incredulously.

"Yes. Is that so surprising?" Damen tilted his head to the side, an amused smile on his lips. "I'm half wolf, it's a part of me that I certainly can't deny. It's quite normal that I have certain aspects that wolves have."

"Wait ..." Laurent bit his lip while thinking, trying to assimilate what he had read and the words of the man. "There are things you need to explain to me. Yet, what is exactly alphas, betas and omegas? What are the changes?"

Damen hummed softly, shaking his head. He moved closer to the table, making his chair creak, and grabbed a flying leaf and a pen. "As you must know, a pack of wolves, and I'm talking about animals, not wolves like me..."

"You are an animal." Remarked Laurent, "And a big one."

"Laurent..." sighed the wolfman.

"Okay, okay ! Keep going, please." Laughed the young man.

"So I was saying, a pack of wolves is composed of a dominant male called alpha, who is the pack leader and who is usually accompanied by a dominant, so alpha, female. The rest of the pack is composed of wolves betas and one or more omegas. The betas are classic members of the pack but the omegas are the rejects of the pack, which eat last for example, and allow the group to be cohesive by being, basically, the whipping of the pack." Damen explained while drawing what he was saying. He made a break and turned the page towards Laurent so that he could better see his illustrations. "The alpha couple is the only couple to have the right to breed in a pack. The betas females of the pack are there to accompany the alpha female, to take her place once the babies are born if she needs it or if she dies."

Laurent nodded. "It's good, I understood."

"Okay ... In my people, it's more or less the same thing, even if the omega wolves are not treated that way... Or normally... It depends on the pack." Damen continued while grimacing. The idea of mistreating another living thing obviously did not please him. "But there is still the idea of an alpha leader and a pack of beta and omega wolves, depending on their status." He paused, frowned and took a deep breath, his chest swelling. Damen was searching for his words. "As you read, the goddess, who turned out to be the goddess of fertility..."

"No kidding."

"Laurent..."

"Sorry!"

"The goddess of fertility offered us a second gender so that we could reproduce more easily." The man said. "And later we realized that the changes were more or less the same way."

"I don't understand anymore." Laurent frowned. "Find a better way to explain."

Damen pouted, thinking. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and put one on his lips before lighting it. "Ok..." Black smoke came out of his mouth. "We will talk in facts. So three new categories with the same name as the statuses within a pack: Alpha, beta and omega." He inhaled. Laurent nodded. "The alphas are faster, stronger, more powerful in every way. They are natural pack leaders, they are able to rally and subdue others. Betas are weaker than alphas but are supposed to be stronger than omegas. And omegas are seen as weaker members of the pack." He winced again. "But these are accepted ideas for omegas. Some are even more powerful than alphas. There are families where omegas are powerful and respected pack leaders. True gods on legs."

"Yet, if I understood correctly, they are mistreated in some other packs." Pointed Laurent.

"Yes..." Damen sighed.

"Ok, that I understood. But what is the relationship with mating?" Asked the young man, noting point by point on his notepad what he wanted the man to explain. "I mean, the heat and the ruts... And what are the differences exactly at that level?"

"Hmm ... So we'll eliminate the betas immediately." Damen said crushing his cigarette in an ashtray. "Betas are not affected by ruts and heat, and physically they look more like humans. They don't perceive odors like alphas and omegas and are not subject to their instincts."

"The smells ?"

"Yes." Damen bit his lip. "Everyone has an odor. Specific to the person. It's unique. A smell for each person. Humans are not able to perceive them as wolves, but alphas and omegas wolves have a much more developed sense of smell than betas. It is a means of communication. It helps to know when a wolf is upset, scared, happy, or ready to mate. The smell changes." Laurent nodded again. "Alphas and omegas are pretty special. Their behavior will be dictated by their instincts. The man sighed. "It's complicated to explain to someone who doesn't live it."

Laurent laughed at that, clearly seeing how much the man was searching for his words to find the best way to explain to him what he did not know. "I quite believe you."

"There is so much to explain..." Damen ran a hand over his face.

"Take your time." Laurent shrugged.

 "Omegas and alphas have a special connection. A strange and mystical connection. An alpha will be very protective, normally, from the view of an omega. It's instinctive. As you read, they can also bond with each other, and that's for life. It is almost impossible to break this link."

"It's weird." The young man said. "But I can't really criticize when you talk about mysticism. You're the evidence that magical creatures exist. I can't even reject the existence of a goddess..."

Damen smiled sweetly at him. "Yes, it's weird, but honestly, what's not?" He raised his hands and showed around him. "We live in a world we don't know." He dropped them. "We can only note what we can notice and try to live with."

"I suppose humans would get scared if they learned the truth." Laurent whispered, lowering his eyes, remembering his own reaction.

"That's why few are aware and most are kept out." Damen nodded. "Shall we continue ?"

"Yes"

"Hmm... Mating cycle..." The man bit his lip again. "As you've read, omegas, whether men or women, can carry and give birth to children. If women, regardless of their second gender, can be pregnant all through the year, an omega man will only get pregnant during the mating cycle. Their hormones trigger a heat, as in animals, which allow them to create an egg that will be fertilized by an alpha or a beta. Generally, an omega cannot get pregnant with a beta. It happened but it is extremely rare. It is necessary that the beta has a rate of hormones and sperms sufficiently important to answer the need of the omega."

"So, if I make the link," began Laurent. "Ruts are the way alphas have to meet the needs of the omega."

"That's it. Their hormone levels skyrocket and they produce more sperm, which ensures fertilization."

"But if even omega men are able to carry a child, does that mean they have a uterus and a vagina?"

"Yes and no ?" Damen gave him a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Huh?"

"They have a uterus," Damen laughed softly, nervous. "But no vagina."

"Then how ?" Laurent laughed with him, just as nervous.

"Biology is a little different."

"Oh my god..." the young man sighed, understanding what that meant. He put his head in his hands. "So the entrance to the uterus is... behind?" Not finding a better word to describe what he thought.

"Yes."

"Go ahead, finish me..."

"The alphas have a knot at the base of their sex, like the dogs, and at the moment of ejaculation, the knot grows and blocks the two partners together to be sure that the fertilization is done." Damen said quickly in a breath.

Laurent looked up, still hiding his face in his hands, and spread his fingers to see the man. "Take away a doubt ... You're an alpha, right?"

Damen did not need to formulate an answer, the red that appeared on his cheeks was enough for Laurent. The young man began to chuckle again, first slowly and then louder, until he laughed hard. He writhed in his chair, tears in his eyes, his body shaking uncontrollably as he laughed loudly. It took him several minutes to calm down and he had to avoid glancing at the man in front of him, his laugh catching him every time he saw the wolf's pouting face.

When he was a little quieter, he wiped his eyes with a back of his hand, his belly contracting still slightly. "You really are a giant animal…"

 

*******

 

Night fell quickly. Laurent did not even realize that the brightness had dropped until Damen got up to turn on the light. The young man winced and blinked. He had read for hours in a dark room, narrowing his eyes and leaning more than necessary on his books to decipher their contents. He took a few seconds to get used to the new brightness. He then peered up at Damen who sat down at the table.

Laurent had eventually moved on one of the armchairs, much more comfortable than the wooden chairs that accompanied the solid wood table, even if they were padded. With his arms laden with books describing the alphas and omegas in more detail, he had settled comfortably, one leg pulled toward him, a cup of tea in one hand, turning the pages of the books he had placed on the thick armrest of the armchair with the other.

But Damen had not joined him. He had sat in the same place, rummaging through the books in front of him, searching for information and things to translate that would be useful to Laurent. Some books were written in the language of his ancestors and had never been translated, each wolf learning the language and writing, which the young man could observe on the frescos, as little ones. It was their culture, their history and any wolf worthy of the name had to know it.

Laurent was fascinated by this language. When Damen, lost in thought, began to speak aloud while translating into writing, the young man often felt like he was hearing a melody. Sometimes he allowed himself to ask Damen to read for him, so he could hear him speak.

But, despite the moments of complicity and the discussion they had had a few days earlier, Laurent felt that there was still some discomfort between them. Damen still seemed annoyed by his presence, silencing his inner thoughts and keeping everything to himself, just as Laurent tended to do. He knew that Damen had not told him many things that day.

The human observed the profile of the wolf. His straight nose with a slight bump as if it had been broken one day, his luscious mouth, his sharp jaw, his severe and frowning eyebrows, his beard that covered the bottom part of his face, his curls falling on his forehead. He was focused on what he was reading, Laurent could see his eyes move from right to left.

His gaze always disturbed Laurent a little. It was more intense than that of a classical human. The young man often had the impression that when the man looked at him, he could see right through him. See what was in his head or heart. Just like his presence. Laurent had understood with his readings that when he had the impression that Damen was radiating, it was the effect of his pheromones that acted on his environment.

The young man had wondered if sticking to a wolf so regularly allowed to develop certain abilities. He realized that he was more sensitive than the other humans around Damen. He perceived some subtle changes in him that others did not see. Sometimes, when the wolf got angry after Jord and Orlant because they were not making any progress in their research to find out why the pack wanted to get their hands on Laurent, the young man felt almost the need to lower his head and expose his neck. He later read that it was the behavior that could have a beta or omega in front of the power of an alpha.

There was also that odor, that scent of summer whenever Damen was close enough to him that Laurent could smell it. He knew that perfume came from him, he was sure of it. It was enough of a movement near him, that Damen brushed him or a flurry of wind that made itself felt so that the young man has this fragrance in his nose. The t-shirts that the wolf had left in his room also smelled like that.

Laurent hesitated. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Damen still avoided him somehow, even if it was not physically anymore. He stayed with him but spoke only when it was necessary or when he explained things to the youngest. It would not work, they would not get by if Damen and he did not arrange things and did not communicate more. They could not live in the same house if there were tensions. He lowered his head and bit his lip, gathering his courage. He took a breath.

"You know, we're in this shit together until further notice," murmured Laurent, looking down at the floor, frowning. "So, until then, we will have to find a solution to support each other. Obviously, you have as little desire as me that I stay here, besides your way of avoiding me is rather vexing. I know I'm not the simplest human to bear, especially for a lone wolf like you." He looked up at the wolfman, who was watching him now, his arms crossed over his chest, his face impassive. "And I don't trust you."

"You'll have to do it," Damen whispered. "You're stuck here for a long time."

Laurent remained silent for a few seconds. "I can not trust anyone," he confessed. "And your behavior disturbs me." He snapped his tongue in his mouth, rather annoyed to have to talk about this stuff. "The second before I have the impression to understand what is happening in your head, the second after that is the complete blur. Or, the second before you are all happy and going to help me, you bring me books so that I don't get bored, you give me a wheelchair so that I can move and go out - yes I know you're the one who built the ramp so that I could get out of the house when I couldn't walk - the second after, you run, furious, in the forest and stay there for seven full days because you just learned that I I'll have to stay longer at your home. Now, you're silent most of the time even if you're physically there."

"I assure you, it's pretty reciprocal." Damen said, a bitter grin on his lips.

"The point is that I cannot trust you if you have such an ambivalent behavior." Concluded Laurent crossing, in turn, his arms on his chest.

Damen was silent in his turn, watching Laurent, thinking. He finally sighed and, letting his arms fall, slowly approached the human.

"We need to find a solution."

"Indeed."

Damen pulled a chair off the table and put it right in front of Laurent's chair before sitting on it. He rested his elbows on his lap, leaning on it to lean slightly to the human.

"Let's make a deal." He said calmly.

Laurent raised an eyebrow. "Yes ?"

"We'll have to make sure we build some trust between us, otherwise nothing will work," the wolfman explained, shimmering Laurent's thoughts. "I can't protect you and you risk to put yourself in danger because you cannot count on me."

"So what do you think?" Laurent asked.

"You tell me your story," Laurent backed up, not at all pleased by the idea. "And I tell you mine." Damen added to calm his fears. "So you'll have something to use against me and me alike. We will have information on the other which will allow us to better understand the other and possibly better understand his behavior. A relationship, whatever it is, is built with two. Are you okay with that ?"

"Not really," the human replied with a grimace. But he could not deny that Damen was rather right. Knowing a person's past often helped them understand their actions. "But we have no choice." He sighed.

Damen nodded. He dropped back into his chair, which squeaked under his weight, his muscles contracting. Laurent could not help but watch the muscles of his chest move under his shirt before quickly look up at Damen's face.

"Be the first to." Damen said, waving his hand to Laurent.

"What guarantees me that you will tell me the truth?" Laurent asked.

"I could just as well turn the question over to you." Replied the wolfman. "Trust starts there. You'll have to believe me and I'll have to do the same. Let's begin with being honest with each other."

Laurent nodded slowly, not very sure. He bit his lip, slightly watching Damen from aside, suspicious. Apart from the people around him, who had lived things with him, he had never spoken of his past to anyone. He had preferred to become half-mute than to speak. He could feel his voice leaving him slowly, losing all willpower to make the slightest sound for telling his story. But strangely, and that had a reassuring side, the wolfman seemed to be too straight in his boots and have only one word to try the vicious turns that Laurent was used to. The wolf would not try to deceive him and the young man knew that if he spoke, if he managed to speak, the man would meet him halfway with all the sincerity of the world.

"Laurent, I know it's hard." Damen said gently, feeling the condition of the young man. "Otherwise you would not have become like that. A person does not become selective mute overnight. It must be that important and traumatic things have happened." He gave him a small smile that he wanted reassuring and Laurent lowered his head to his hands, feeling his throat knot. "What proves that is the fact that you start talking when you feel a strong emotion, be it fear, anger or joy. Or when you feel safe enough to be a little more yourself." A slight smile appeared on his lips.

Laurent took a deep breath, his throat tightening at every word of the man. The young man could not deny that when they were only two, the wolf had something reassuring enough for Laurent to let himself go a little more. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He swallowed and opened it again.

"I don't really know where to start..." he murmured.

"Maybe from the beginning?" Damen laughed.

A grin appeared on his lips, Laurent was divided between the desire to send a cushion or a boot on Damen while treating him of an idiot and the desire to laugh frankly. He just smiled softly, a little more relaxed.

"It will take a little while." He said.

"That's fine then..." Damen got up and headed for a dark wooden cabinet in which he fumbled. Laurent heard the clinking of the glasses and the bottles clashing. The wolfman came back to him and handed him a glass. The human grasped it gently, one eyebrow raised. Damen poured a brown alcohol on it and sat in front of him again before serving himself and swallowing a sip. "Because we have all our time and something help us untie our tongues." He raised the bottle he was holding to show it to Laurent before placing it near him.

"At least, does it work on you?" Laurent asked, bringing his glass to his lips. The alcohol burned his throat and he winced. He was not used to it and did not like to drink. Being under the influence of alcohol meant potentially losing control, which was intolerable for him. Today was an exception.

"What do you mean ?"

"Can a wolf be drunk?"

"Of course." Replied Damen. "But we have some resistance. Some need several bottles. He smiles at that. "I know a wolf who makes his own alcohol. You have to have a good stomach to drink something like that, even for wolves. Generally, we avoid drinking it."

" Bad memory ?" Laurent laughed. "I'd like to see what happens to you when you do."

The smile on Damen's face widened as he thought back to his adventures and he lowered his eyes, hiding his slight embarrassment. "It gives a Damen running naked in the woods and waking the next day without any memory, still naked, perched in a tree. With a huge hangover."

"You have to introduce me to this friend," Lauren said. "I really want to see that."

"You would end much worse than me." Snorted Damen, still smiling. "I don't know how you would bear to drink that." He frowned slightly. "By the way ... I've served you, but are you only old enough to drink?"

"If I told you no, would you take my drink back?" Laurent asked, a teasing smile on his lips as he took a sip without leaving the wolfman with his eyes.

"No, you'll need it."

Laurent nodded and put the glass on his lap. He bit his lip, not knowing where or where to start. "A few years ago, my brother and my father died." He whispered, his throat tightening again, forcing him to swallow another sip. "I was twelve years old, and my brother was away for work. He was a cop and he was murdered during a mission. At least that's what I was told." Damen narrowed his eyes, listening intently. "The same day, my father was murdered at his office by one of his former clients. He was a lawyer." Laurent frowned, thinking about how to approach things, how to put them in order. He tried to repress the various feelings raging in his chest. He took a breath. "My mother died when I was born, so I had only my uncle left."

"I am sorry." Damen said.

Laurent shrugged. "At first, I was too young to realize that something was wrong, that it was not normal. It was too much to be a mere coincidence. Growing up, I started to understand it but it was already too late. The entire family business was in my uncle's hands and I was stuck with him." He was silent for a moment and drank again. A shiver ran through him. "Except this man was not the one I thought. There have been things that should not happen to a child."

"Did he do anything to you?" The wolfman asked calmly, even though his face was tense.

"It didn't stop there." Laurent continued, not wanting to answer Damen's question even though he knew his silence spoke volumes. "When I got too old to suit him, he started making passes. I found myself in a kind of traffic, he used me to get what he wanted others. I was a toy, a pawn, a tool, and far too young to really defend myself. Nobody listened to me. The adults said that I was doing this to attract attention and anyway, everything was too well hidden. There were never brands ... and in the accounts of the company, nothing came out. I could say anything I wanted, I could never prove anything." Laurent inhaled, his throat too tight. "I tried to film, to gather the few elements that I found. But everything was always hijacked, foiled..."

Laurent lifted his head towards Damen, who stared at him strangely, his face too tense to let any information pass. Without a word, the wolf-man grabbed the bottle by his side and refilled the now empty glass of Laurent. The young man thanked him with a nod and drank without waiting. The alcohol burned his throat again but he began to relax, feeling tingling in the tips of his fingers.

"One day, I ran away. One of the men my uncle wanted to scam had made the mistake of leaving marks... I rushed to Jord's place who was an old friend of my brother and his teammate." Laurent sighed. "And he believed me. I was then eighteen years old. He put together a file, put trusted agents on the case and quietly investigated. But to make my uncle fall, more evidence was needed. So I had to continue as if nothing had happened, to suffer all this for one more year before we had enough things against my uncle." The human rolled his shoulders, trying to relax. "The trial lasted a long time and when we had all the evidence to incriminate him ... He got away with anyway." Bitter, Laurent ran his tongue over his teeth, a grimace of hatred displayed on his face. "He was not found guilty. Since then he has disappeared from circulation and all the property of my father's business has been seized. I have no right to anything." He lifted the glass to his lips and laughed. "During the trial, they went so far as to say that I was consenting during all this..."

"I understand better why you became a selective mute." Damen said, swinging his head back to finish his drink before refilling his glass.

" What do you mean ?" Laurent asked, not understanding.

"You lived all that..." the wolfman started. "And when you finally started talking, telling what happened to you, which was probably the most complicated thing to do, they made you think that you were wrong and this man went away out..." His gaze fell on Laurent, who bit his lip. His eyes were hard and full of innuendo. "Unconsciously, you probably had to tell you that it was useless to talk because finally, whether you speak or not, the result was the same." Laurent shrugged and turned his head uncomfortably. The wolfman was so right that his heart clenched with each of his words. "Personally, I think I would have pursued him to the end of the world to torture him and make him pay."

"Things are so now... I cannot do much about it."

"No indeed..." Damen leaned slightly to see Laurent's face who looked at him from the corner of his eyes. The man smiled tenderly at him and his heart leaped into his chest. "At least you've come out of there too and he's not here to make you suffer horrors..."

Laurent lowered his eyes. "But until when ? He will come back... I know it."

Damen sat up in his chair and took a sip of his drink. "That day, I'll be here for you. You won't be alone."

The young man laughed darkly at that, turning to the man. " What makes you say that ? You don't stand me or my presence in your house. Don't make a promise that you will not hold. Not you."

Damen tilted his head to the side, watching Laurent, who did not look away. "We are working on it. And it's not you or your presence that I cannot stand... It's our situation."

Laurent felt lost hearing that. "I don't understand…"

The wolfman squeezed his jaw and winced as he reflected on his words. "I feel... responsible for what happened to you."

The human narrowed his eyes, suddenly on his guard. "Explain yourself…"

"As I told you before, what happened to you should never have happened." Damen said, clearing his throat and lowering his head. He slowly turned the liquid in his glass. He bit his lip. "This pack, at the base, was mine. I was the alpha heir. My father was the pack leader. And neither he nor I would have tolerated such an act. We don't hunt humans for any reason."

Laurent tapped his foot. "Indeed, eating a human, even for you, we can call it cannibalism."

Damen laughed in a breath, the corner of his mouth rising in a grin. "Indeed." His face became harder. "Except that the new leader practices this kind of behavior and encourages them. For him, humans are just a sub-breed."

"I don't really see why you feel responsible." Laurent said bringing one of his legs to him and placing one of his wrists balanced on one of the handles of his chair, leaving his hand holding his glass hanging in the air.

"If he's the boss now, it's my fault. I was too naive." Damen explained.

"Are you telling me your story?" The young man asked, tilting his head to the side.

"A few years ago..." began the wolfman.

"That's how I started mine." Remarked Laurent, making an innocent head.

Damen chuckled, understanding Laurent's intentions. In the same way that he did for him, the human was trying to relax the atmosphere to make the telling of his story less burdensome. And Damen was grateful to him. "Our pack was attacked by another pack. My father was sick and could not help me defend it. During the battle, while I was in front of their leader, I tried to reason with him, to discuss with him because I didn't understand what was happening, why they were attacking us." Damen licked his lips, moistening them, and took a sip of alcohol. Laurent imitated him. "He was making incoherent remarks and was controlled by his anger. He said that I was trying to kidnap his younger brother, who was apparently just a child, to turn him into a breeding animal. He said I violated the peace treaties between our packs by doing that. At last, from what I remember and from what I understood. During the time we were talking, the wolves of his pack started to prey on pregnant women and children, for avenging the fact that I was trying to kidnap the little brother."

Laurent's eyes widened. Damen's face slowly turned into a grimace, contorted by sadness, despair, and anger. His eyes lit up, taking on their beautiful red color, but Damen remained impassive. He did not move a millimeter and seemed lost in his memories, the lines between his eyebrows and around his eyes widening to reveal his grief.

"There's this thing about wolves, that you've read in books and that we talked about, that bond us to certain people, to a lover or to a child, and that makes us feel if something happens to these people. When they started attacking the children, I felt something. I didn't understand immediately and I remained frozen on the spot. The leader took the opportunity to attack me by surprise." Damen tugged lightly on his shirt and Laurent saw a scar under the wolfman's clavicle he had never paid attention to. "I had a son ... he was really small. When I came back to me, I realized that something had happened to him. The only way I found to stop the killing was to kill their alpha. What I have done." Laurent winced. He understood why Damen looked so upset. "When you kill the alpha of a pack in attack, it stops. It allowed us to push them away. But I was so overcome by grief and losing too much blood that I lost consciousness."

He paused for a moment, to regain his composure, swallowing loudly and straightening up on his chair. Laurent's heart was heavy and he had to repress the urge to take the man in his arms. He could not imagine what it felt like to lose a child. Damen had tears in his eyes and his face was contracted, as if he tried to resist the urge to crack in front of the young man, refusing to give in to his emotions.

"When I regained consciousness, I learned that my father was dead and that my brother had taken the head of the pack, my child's mother at his side. I was rejected from the pack for the reason that I was apparently aware of the attack that I had planned with the other pack leader to overthrow the power and take the pack head instead of my father. I heard that I had killed my own child deliberately to achieve my ends, that because of me treaties had been flouted... In short... Plenty of schemings reasons that allowed my brother to take the place he dreamed so much about." Damen exhaled slowly, Laurent watching his chest swell. "I had heard rumors, people of confidence had warned me but I refused to believe them, I was naive. I told myself he was my brother and he would never do such a thing. I was wrong... And it was his pack that attacked you."

"But you have nothing to do with it... Have you tried to take back your pack?" Laurent asked, dismayed by Damen's state. He did not know the man well but did not like to see him that way.

"I tried but everything was against me and I have nothing to prove my innocence. Just words. And like you know, words aren't enough sometimes." Damen said, finishing his drink again and shrugging his shoulders. "So, yes, it's not you or your presence that I cannot stand. It's the fact that every time I see you, I tell myself it's my fault if you get stuck here. If I had been more vigilant..."

"With ifs, we could put Paris in a bottle." Laurent cut him.

"What do you mean ?"

"You wanted to believe in your brother, which is normal." Said the young man. "I would never have doubted the loyalty of mine, I never imagined for a second that Auguste would double me to recover the head of the company and I knew that he never imagined me to do that either. It's your family and you're loyal to it... The fact that you're a wolf helping I guess."

A faint smile appeared on Damen's lips. "I suppose…"

"So it's not your fault. It's your brother's." Laurent continued. He leaned down gently and grabbed one of Damen's hands in his, squeezing it gently before quickly letting go and backing away. "My situation is not your fault. And you protected me. I'm grateful to you. You didn't have to."

"I wasn't going to let you be devoured or whatever idea they had in mind." Damen said as if it was obvious.

"But you still didn't have to. You could very well have not intervened."

Damen looked down and nodded slowly, understanding the meaning of the words of the youngest.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"No... Thanks to you..." replied Laurent in the same tone.

Damen looked up. He stared at the human and his eyes softly resumed their dark hue. Laurent sighed quietly with relief as the older man's emotions subsided and he relaxed. "I guess now the situation is cleared up and things will get a little bit easier. As much for you as for me." The wolfman said after a moment.

"I don't really trust you yet and I think it's mutual ..." Laurent explained. "But it's a good beginning." He smiled sweetly.

 Damen returned his smile. "But it's a good beginning..." He repeated.

 

*******

 

Laurent growled. His head ached, his mouth was pasty, his throat was dry and his whole body was heavy. He had the impression that a thirty-six-tonne truck had rolled on him a first time, had backed off to roll over him again, and had driven forward to complete the job. He tried to open his eyes before grunting again, the light burning his eyes and accentuating his headache. He rolled to the other side of the bed and hid his head under the oh-so-fluffy cushion.

They had drunk. Too much. They had spent most of the night emptying Damen's liquor stores, giggling and telling each other ridiculous stories about their past. Laurent laughed heartily every time the wolfman had mimeded his adventures, waving his arms and laughing with him, a bottle still in his hand. Laurent's glass had never had time to be empty, Damen refilling it before he even saw the bottom.

When they had finished most of the strong alcohol, Damen had the wonderful bad idea of taking out the Makedon's griva, the famous wolf who made his own alcohol. And the wolfman was right, one had to have their heart well damn hooked to swallow something like that. But already too much soaked, Laurent had asked for more. And in the early morning, they found themselves half-naked, their T-shirts having flown somewhere in the room several hours ago, dancing and laughing at stupid music that Damen had emerged from his drawers.

Laurent stirred in the sheets, grumbling after the effects that his hangover caused on his body. He got up with extreme slowness, swallowing heavily when the nausea rose. He could almost feel the taste of bile in his mouth. It was a painful reminder of why he never drank alcohol. He did not try to remember what had happened during the night, afraid of what he could have said or done.

He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, pulling them back to clear his face. He rubbed his eyes and then tried to open them again, grimacing when a sharp pain hit his skull. He blinked several times and then examined what was around him. Before he noticed with horror that he was absolutely not in his room. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and then, just as slowly as the rest of his movements, he grabbed the sheet and lifted it. He opened his eyes, lowered them, and once again saw with horror that he was naked. Completely naked.

"What did I screw up...?" He wondered in a whisper.

Laurent looked up and stared at the room. The bed he was in had a round shape and was huge. It looked like a nest that would have been made from sheets, cushions and blankets. The sheets were silky and soft under the young man's fingers, and the cushions comfortable. And they smelled like Damen. The whole room smelled like Damen.

The young man bit his lip and slowly, wrapping a sheet around his waist, he stood up. He held on a wall, testing his stability before starting to walk into the room. The rest of the room was partially tidy, clothes scattered everywhere. There were piles of books near the bed and a fridge, to the surprise of Laurent who did not understand what the machine was doing there. Reflection had the same effect as hammering on his head and he did not try to understand more.

Sighing, he went to the door which was strangely open. Neither did he try to understand and he left the room, sometimes standing on the wall when nothing but walking made him want to throw up. Even if he was dying to poke around the wolf's room, he thought he'd come back later, when he felt a little better. He went down the stairs, putting his feet one after another on each step to be sure not to stumble by taking his feet in the sheet that was hanging behind him. Halfway through, Laurent heard some noise in the kitchen and, coming closer, he heard Damen's voice singing happily.

Laurent frowned and narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling the irrepressible need to stun the wolf with all his might. Who was enjoying singing when they had a hangover? He had to be crazy. Still, he thought that even though the day before he had been too drunk to notice it, Damen really had a very pretty voice, especially when he was singing.

He approached slowly, trying to be discreet even though he suspected that the wolf had probably heard him groan from the room, and tilted his head from the doorway to see what Damen was doing. Then not quite sure of what he was seeing, he pulled his head back, rubbed his eyes and tilted his head again. No, he had seen well.

Damen was shirtless, singing and dancing around the kitchen island as he prepared what it seemed like breakfast. Laurent could smell bacon and eggs in leather, mingling with the smell of pancakes already on the counter. The wolf threw the spatula in the air, moving his body in rhythm with the song he was humming. The young man saw a headset hanging from his ear, the wire down his back to get lost in the pocket of his back jeans where Laurent guessed the form of an mp3 player.

Damen looked different. Almost carefree. As if a weight had been removed from his shoulders. He was definitely in a good mood. And he definitely did not suffer the effects of alcohol. Laurent insulted him silently, but seeing him as happy made his heart warmer. And to say that it was enough of a night of fuel to turn the grumbling wolf into a jolly wolf.

Laurent approached again, raising the sheet a little so as not to step on it. Damen turned around at that moment, his ears moving as if they were wolf-like. And the man smiled when he saw the young man. A huge smile, swallowing half of his face, illuminating the room. Laurent had to refrain from covering his eyes, his smile having the same effect as the light of day when he had woken up. He noticed the small dimple on the left side of his smile, hidden under his beard.

"How's the Sleeping Beauty this morning?" Damen said, putting eggs and bacon on a plate. "At least, this afternoon, since it is past fourteen o'clock. Slept well ?"

Laurent huffed a little, shaking his head, and sat down on one of the chairs near the island. "I need you to explain some things to me." He growled before putting his head in his hands.

"Tell me everything." Damen turned and headed for the mixer, which was full of a greenish substance that was anything but appetizing. He poured it into a glass and put it in front of Laurent, who winced.

"First, why did I wake up naked?" Laurent asked, putting the sheet right around his hips and staring at the glass in front of him. "Then why did I wake up naked in your bed?" Damen chuckled. "Third, how can you look like you did not drink? You drank more griva than me !"

"So first, drink this!" The wolf pointed to the glass. "It will make pass your hangover very quickly." He then sat down next to Laurent, who hesitated before bringing the glass to his lips. Finally, it was not so bad. "Secondly, you seem to have forgotten that we took a bath in the river that night... This morning... With the little clothes we had left on our backs." The young man swallowed and looked at him, disconcerted. "Thirdly, you didn't want to sleep in your bed because my nest was more comfortable in your opinion." Laurent could only nod to that. He had already thought about it a little earlier. "And finally, I had an absolutely awful hangover, and then I drank that." He showed the glass again, an amused smile on his lips. "It's an old magic recipe that Paschal's grandmother gave me long ago after a boozy evening."

Laurent nodded before continuing to drink, already feeling the effects of the mixture working miracles on his headache. His eyes rested on the meal in front of him and he frowned. "Are we waiting for someone?"

"Hmm?" Damen frowned as well before taking a look at the breakfast. Then he understood. "Ah! No, we are not waiting for anyone. Well... not that I know. Wolves eat a lot and it's even worse after spending a night drinking." He pulled one of his plates and began to eat.

"Never again griva... Remember me to kill Makedon when I met him." The young man winced before starting to draw in his own plate.

He moaned with happiness. He usually did not eat after drinking, the alcohol making him sick. But the mixture worked well and the smell of the meal opened his appetite. And when the food touched his taste buds, he felt like he had never eaten something so delicious all his life. Damen smiled tenderly at the sight of him and handed him the plate of pancakes. Laurent served himself a good share and continued to eat with enthusiasm and appetite.

"Well, what can you do?" Damen asked at the end of the meal as he cleared the counter and put a cup of steaming coffee in front of Laurent.

"What do you mean ?" The young man raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

"You are not very muscular."

"It's undeniable."

"And now that you're back on your feet, figuratively and literally, you'll have to start training." Damen said, watching him closely. "You are far from being an athlete."

"No kidding." Laurent paused, hiding behind his cup. "Not everyone can be beaten like a golgoth. You were born like this?"

Damen laughed softly. "No, I was not born like that! I was skinny at birth. A shrimp. I was so small, lean and light that my family wondered if I was going to survive or even develop my wolf skills. They even wondered if the male heir was not an omega."

"That would have been a problem?" Laurent asked.

"No." Damen smiled gently and leaned on the counter. "In my father's day, omegas were respected. He just wanted a fighting son."

"He must have been delighted with the change."

"Indeed."

"What are you going to do with me exactly?" The young man questioned him.

"We need to make sure you build a strong body and be able to defend you against a wolf. Whether it's with bare hands or armed." Damen explained. "So I need to know if you have certain abilities that could help us make the job easier or if some things are to be preferred."

"I'm flexible." Laurent said.

"Huh? "

"I'm flexible." Repeated the young man. "I can contort myself in every way without it being a problem. And I have a rather robust body, I put up a shot easily."

"Flexible..." Damen murmured, raising an eyebrow, not sure what to do with this information.

"What?" Laurent crossed his arms over his chest, almost annoyed by Damen's reaction.

"How flexible?" Damen asked, grimacing.

Laurent scowled and stood up. He walked to the living room with a decided step, the wolf following him. He saw a boxer still slightly wet dragging on the ground, did not question who he could belong even if he had the answer immediately by putting it on, the boxer being too wide and falling down on his hips, and dropped the sheet. He then turned to Damen, facing him, took a deep breath, then raised his leg.

The wolf's eyes widened, not really expecting that. Laurent continued his demonstration, the air imperturbable. He grabbed his ankle and wriggled, pushing his foot over his shoulder while firmly standing on his other leg. Once sure that his leg would not fall, he let go and spread his hands. The wolf opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, looking for what to say and making different grins every time he thought of something or tried to speak without getting there. Laurent chuckled.

"How do you manage to do that?" Finally succeeds in asking Damen by folding his arms over his chest.

"Well, the guys who fucked me had the annoying tendency to twist me in every way." Laurent explained, letting his leg fall slowly. It was strange to feel his muscles tense after so long. "Some even had some small BDSM kinks so..."

The young man could not help but laugh at the wolf's expression on his face. He was clearly shocked, his mouth open, but he also seemed quite angry.

"Are you serious ?" He murmured.

"Yes." Laurent replied as if they were talking about the rain and good weather and not about the rapes that the young man had suffered.

Damen was silent for a moment, the time to digest the information before approaching Laurent. "You talk about it like it's nothing and you were not traumatized."

Laurent bit his lip. "I think I feel comfortable enough to talk about it freely when I'm with you. Especially after yesterday." He then shrugged. "Then it's better to laugh than to cry." The young man did not add to the fact that he had noticed that Damen was not looking at him as if he had been disgraced and soiled or a victim, as the others had done. He regarded him as a survivor and a warrior. Laurent could not help but appreciate the fact that the wolf seemed upset after those who had made him suffer. He was willing to bet that if Damen had the opportunity, he would lint the men who did that to Laurent. With a sadistic pleasure. Was it because he was an alpha and tended to want to protect his entourage and his family, or was it because he liked Laurent more than the latter would have thought? The young man was unable to say.

"Honestly, I don't know if I prefer when you speak or when you are mute." Damen confessed, continuing to get closer to Laurent until the younger was forced to raise his head to look at him.

"You wanted me to speak, I wanted you to talk, we're done. You'll have to put up with my bad humor now." The young man said. "Then at least, now, I have a lot of stamina."

"I can not believe you said that." Damen shook his head.

"You'll have to get used to it."

"So, you are flexible, robust and enduring." Enumerated the wolf. "We must be able to do something with that."

"You see, there are not only bad sides."

Damen giggled, then watched as Laurent looked back at him. They stood there for a moment, a few inches apart, observing each other.

"So human, are you ready to learn how to fight?" Damen asked, breaking the silence, the corner of his mouth curving into a sure and complicit grin.

"More than ever." Laurent replied, returning his smile and his glance. "Big Bad Wolf."

 

_He thought that, indeed, it was a good beginning..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you all ? Thank you for taking the time to read that chapter/story. 
> 
> Thank you too for being patient while I was passing my exams (that I passed successfully) and struggling a bit with that story. Since I'm writing a story for the Big Bang Capri 2018 at the same time, it was a bit difficult to write both at the same time. 
> 
> Please take a minute to tell me what you think about it, and thanks for all the comments and kudos i got until here !
> 
> Take care of you and see you in the next chapter !


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